


Dirty Sexy Money

by DistractedDream



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu-Gi-Oh! Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Big Bang Challenge, Deathshipping, Drug Dealing, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Stripping, Thiefshipping, Wordcount: 10.000-30.000, YGO Big Bang, soloshipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-06-28 01:00:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15696939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DistractedDream/pseuds/DistractedDream
Summary: The Ishtar brothers run Domino’s most exclusive strip club, Min Saboten. When the Bakura brothers come for amateur night - one to dance and one to thieve - they end up finding themselves in debt to the Ishtars. Having no choice but to work for the Ishtars, will Ryou and Bakura break under the pressure? Or will they flourish in the seedy side of Domino - and maybe find love too?(Part of the 2018 YGO Big Bang Challenge)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! This is my submission for the 2018 YGO Big Bang Challenge! This is the first time I've written something for a big bang. I'm actually nervous to post it, but it was one of those ideas I had that I used the challenge to push myself to finish. Hopefully you enjoy!
> 
> Beta'd as always by the amazing SerenityXStar. There is art and I'll update with a link ASAP. Oh and you bet there's a playlist: https://open.spotify.com/user/distracteddream/playlist/0WM1aYd3q8DJBbdhvt0lSy?si=C43ZxNlBRAuROAY8VAUFzQ
> 
> I can be found on Twitter @DistracteDream and on Tumblr @DistractedDream. Please leave kudos or comments if you liked this! I appreciate every single one.

"You sure about this?" Bakura shivered in the cold rain, jamming his hands into the pockets of his black trench coat. He sneered at the gaudy neon sign above their heads. The purple lettering of Min Saboten glowed against the dark building. What was once a warehouse had been converted to the most prestigious strip club in Domino. Bakura had visited several clubs but the Min Saboten's high cover charge meant he'd never been inside. Now, however, he stood huddled against the building in a line with wannabe strippers - a line that included his brother, Ryou.

Ryou looked up from his forward bend, straightening and twisting. "Do you want the heat turned back on?" He stretched his arms over his head and ignored his brother's scowl to subtly check out the competition. Even for a messy night, the turn-out was decent. Min Saboten only had amateur night a few times a year and Ryou recognized some dancers from other auditions and callbacks. He'd never stripped, not for money, though he didn't have anything against those who did. The buzz was if you were going to do it, Min Saboten was the best place with the best clientele, rich guys with money to throw at pretty things. And Ryou and Bakura needed the money right now. "You look nothing like a dancer. At least pull your hair back."

Bakura scoffed though he snatched the hair tie Ryou handed him. "Only need to get in the door." He secured his hair in a low ponytail and widened his eyes, softening his tone. "Oh gosh, I thought I could do it but I got too nervous. I'm too shy to take off my clothes!" Ryou snorted at his play-acting. "Worry about yourself and don't fall off the pole," he teased. Ryou stuck his tongue out, people quieting as the door opened. A tall, well-built bald man stood at the door with a tablet, taking names as each dancer entered the club. The neon glow cast shadows on his face, dark lines of a massive tattoo down one side barely visible. Bakura whistled low. "I thought this was supposed to be a classy establishment." Ryou shrugged as he stepped forward giving his name and showing his ID to verify his age. Bakura did the same and followed Ryou into the dark interior.

Before Ryou disappeared backstage, he gave Bakura's hand a squeeze. Bakura squeezed back and let their fingers fall away as he slipped into the club proper. It was their signal, their reassurance to each other, Ryou telling him to be safe and Bakura saying he would. Ryou wouldn't be the only one going home with heavier pockets.

 

* * *

 

"How's it looking, Eagle?"

The voice crackled in Rishid's earpiece as he finished checking in the last amateur. "Some look promising. Some duds. Good mix of guys and girls." He tapped on his screen, sending the information upstairs to his brother. "Should all be working with Dice on music now."

Another voice came through the earpiece. "Relieved you don't have to shake your ass tonight to fill the gaps, Namu?"

"Fuck you, Leo. As though these plebes could afford me."

Rishid didn't so much as roll his eyes at his younger brothers' usual bickering. He ducked inside, meandering through the dressing area, separating two dancers who were arguing over a mirror, and continuing to the front. He nodded at Duke who was swarmed with dancers, some pushing CDs and flashdrives at him. He seemed pleased with the attention, but it made Rishid's skin crawl. Some generic house beat filled the club and Rishid made a note to get his painkillers before Duke kicked the bass up for the performances.

"Uh, you offering two for one tonight? Fuckers coming in by droves."

"Standard discount since it's amateur night. Shit, I bet I could be charging full price."

"Yeah, yeah, I need some fucking help here."

"On my way," Rishid answered, relieved that the crowd had at least gotten them to stop sniping at each other. A flash of white caught his attention as it disappeared behind the bar, but at the same moment, Nasir's frustrated growling got loud enough to hear in his earpiece. Whatever he’d seen would have to wait. Rishid cut a quick path through the club and early patrons to his brother's side. In the steady flow of checking IDs, turning away fakes or those who'd been blacklisted, and making sure the cover charge was paid, Rishid forgot all about what he wasn't sure he'd seen.

Nasir flopped back against the wall once the initial crowd was cleared, scratching at his spiky hair. "Damn, thought we'd have a slow night." Like Rishid, he didn't care for the crowds and he savored the few moments of peace. He patted his pockets, grumbling when he remembered he'd given up smoking last year. Rishid patted his shoulder.

"Slow nights aren't a good thing," Marik pointed out over the earpiece.

Before they could get into it again, Rishid nudged Nasir. "Go take a breather upstairs. We're okay for now." Nasir nodded, walking behind the bar and DJ platform to a concealed door, shutting it tightly behind him.

 

* * *

 

Bakura grabbed another bottle of liquor without looking at it, tucking it into the deep pockets of his coat and moving it to a shadowy corner near the back door. Lifting the bottles while the barbacks were still loading was easy, but carrying the bottles while he worked would have been impossible. The floor had started to fill up, customers ordering drinks and settling in. He swiped one from the end of the bar, knocking it back quickly. Getting drunk wasn't the idea, but liquor on his breath would help him fit in more with the other patrons. He slipped into a far booth, scouting potential targets, breaking into a grin.

Min Saboten really did have a higher level of customers and Bakura's fingers tapped against the tabletop, itching to get to work.

 

* * *

 

"What's your name, honey?" The blonde woman leaned forward into the mirror and adjusted her white bustier. Her eyes flicked to Ryou's reflection in the mirror and back to herself, checking her own makeup.

Ryou tucked the hairpin into his bun. One pull and his hair would be released. "Ryou. Yours?"

She laughed airily. "Valentine. Ryou's your real name?" His hands paused, giving her a blank look. "Here's a free tip, sugar. Don't use your real name. Makes it too easy for the creeps to find you." Valentine turned and propped her hip against the table. "This is your first time, isn't it? Well, we'll have to think up a name for you."

He scrunched his nose up as she looked him over. “I already told the DJ my name. And the guy at the door.”

Valentine waved her hand, batting away his concern. “Dice won’t use your real name. He knows better.” Her fingers reached out to pull a strand of Ryou’s hair down around his face, but he jerked back with a scowl his brother would have been proud of. “Whoa, hey. Okay, no touching, sugar. Got it.” She shrugged. “You won’t get as many tips though if you don’t let them get a taste. What’s your music?”

“Isn’t that a good way to get my music stolen?” Ryou swiped at his lips in the mirror, smudging the color he’d put on earlier to soften it. Bass thrummed through the walls, Dice warming up the crowd. “You’ve done this before?”

The blonde woman smirked down at him. “Someone has to show you newbies how it’s done.” She winked. “Angel. That’s what we’ll call you. You’ve got the hair for it.” Before Ryou could object, Valentine disappeared into the chaos of backstage.

 

* * *

Bakura was not drunk. Not at bit. At least that’s what he told himself as he helped himself to another beverage from a distracted patron. He’d scoped out the cameras and security, which mostly seemed to be comprised of a few guys more interested in the stage. It was the bald guy who had let them in he really had to avoid. That one looked fully capable of bodily throwing Bakura out and wouldn’t even crack a grin while doing so. No, he’d wait until the crowd was nice and intoxicated and thoroughly distracted by the strippers before he started relieving them of their possessions.

And if he had to watch some of the strippers himself while he waited, that was a sacrifice he was willing to make.

 

* * *

 

“Gods, why did Rishid let her in the door?” Marik sneered at the computer screen with a live feed of the stage. He’d had a couple employees leave recently and needed some fresh blood in the club. He cut his eyes over to Nasir who’d made himself comfortable on the sofa in the office. “You could get up on the stage. We’d make a killing.” Nasir simply flipped him off and took a long pull of his beer. “You need to get your ass back downstairs.”

“You need to shut the fuck up and let me finish my beer.” Nasir held the cool bottle against his forehead. This, the business, had been Marik’s idea. Min Saboten was the culmination of what he’d started in Egypt until the local police stopped taking bribes and the heat got a little too close to home. They’d moved to Domino as fast as Marik could purchase the warehouse and the club opened a few months later. Rishid and Nasir provided the muscle while Marik ran the business. Marik had stripped when they started. Had, until he realized he could make more money whoring. Nasir had sold himself as well, but he didn’t have the patience to deal with people pawing at him and expecting him to do what they wanted. Once they came to Domino, Marik continually raised his prices until only a very few could afford him and Nasir didn’t need to prostitute himself anymore.

Marik clacked away at his keyboard, black lacquered nails flying over the keys. The dancers didn’t realize their performances were basically job interviews – and future blackmail if Marik ever decided he needed it. His eyes flicked between the screens, scanning the club and bar. A head of white hair weaving between the patrons caught his attention as Duke introduced the next dancer.

 

* * *

 

“Alright, now you know we only bring you the best here at Min Saboten.” Duke cued up the next track as the previous dancer cleared the stage. He loved his job, loved the drinks and the girls and the attention – and he was a fucking good DJ and knew it. “We got a real treat for you tonight. Wait until ya get ahold of this one. Pretty little thing here to dance just for you. Welcome to the stage, Angel!”

The opening of “Blood, Milk and Sky” sounded over the speakers and Ryou counted the seconds until the beat would start. Everything else faded out of his mind. Only the rhythm mattered. As the beat came in, Ryou stepped out on the stage.

 

* * *

 

He wasn’t going to watch his brother strip, but the crowd definitely was. They seemed enchanted by Ryou’s serpentine motions, cheering as he circled the pole, leaning back against it to slide his ass down the metal, knees spread and snapping closed, teasing them. Bakura worked each table carefully, lifting watches and wads of cash and the occasional ring. Money poured onto the stage, the singles quickly becoming larger bills as Ryou unpinned his hair, letting it cascade down his back as he spun on the pole.

The drinking had made Bakura careless, confident, and unaware that someone upstairs watched his every move.

 

* * *

 

“That bold motherfucker…” Marik grinned darkly as he watched the white shadow picking the pockets of his customers. Nasir stood at his shoulder, unable to resist a White Zombie song, his eyes locked on the dancer. He wouldn’t have noticed the thief if Marik hadn’t nudged his abdomen and pointed him out. “Stop drooling at the ass candy and get that fucker. Eagle, Leo’s coming down. You’ve got a thief down there.”

 

* * *

 

In a lesser establishment, all hell might have broken loose. The Ishtar brothers, however, moved like ghosts through the crowd toward their target. Bakura caught Ryou’s eye as the song ended and gave him a thumbs’ up. He backed up, intending to head for his stash of liquor and out the door. Instead he hit a wall of flesh, a hand clamping down on his arm.

Marik’s voice buzzed into Nasir’s and Rishid’s ears. “He signaled the stripper. Bring him too.”

Nasir’s head cranked to the stage, meeting wide blue-green eyes from where the stripper was picking up his tips. Nasir pointed to the back. If the kid was stupid enough to run, well, it’s not that Nasir wouldn’t enjoy it, but it would be easier if he didn’t. A short nod and he stood, casting a worried look to his brother and walking backstage. Nasir couldn’t help it as he stared at the pale ass hanging out of a white thong as he walked away.

“If you’re done drooling…”

“Fuck you, Namu,” Nasir growled out, making his way backstage.

 

* * *

 

Rishid forced Bakura down into a chair in front of Marik’s desk. “Get your fuckin’ hands off me, wanker! This how you treat paying customers? You’re gonna be lucky if I don’t sue all your asses!”

“Bakura. Please stop,” Ryou said, effectively silencing his brother. His heels clicked on the hard floor, still dressed – or undressed as it were – after his performance. Ryou was used to people looking at his body, judging him, which is why stripping on stage and being almost naked now hadn’t bothered him. Nasir followed close behind, carrying Ryou’s bag, dropping it onto the floor and pointing to the chair next to Bakura. Nasir locked the door and crossed the room to stand behind Marik’s chair. Ryou’s eyes bounced between them as he sat, mouth forming a small O as he realized they were identical twins. Bakura simply glared more, trying to get up until Rishid’s hand pressed down on his shoulder, pinning him down.

“Paying customer, hm?” Marik rested his hands on his desktop, screens around him dark for the moment. “Bakura Ryou. Bakura Hisato.” Bakura sneered at his name. “According to our files, you both entered tonight as amateur dancers. Only one of you got onstage though.” He gave Ryou a pointed look and swung his gaze back to Bakura. “At best, it looks like you didn’t want to pay the cover. But why don’t you tell me what you were doing.”

Bakura’s eyes flicked to his brother. If it had just been him, he wouldn’t have cared if he got tossed out or, hell, even knocked around as long as the damage wasn’t too permanent. But Ryou was in this with him which meant he had to play it smarter. The innocent act was out the window. “Yeah, I thought I could sneak in. Fanciest titty bar in Domino. Always wanted to see the inside.” Marik’s eyes narrowed slightly, Nasir’s rolling behind him. Bakura winced as Rishid’s hand on his shoulder squeezed until the joint ground together. “Fuck! Get off me!”

Marik smacked his desk, pushing himself to his feet. “Call Min Saboten a fucking titty bar again and you’ll need to figure out how to talk without your tongue.” Ryou held his hand out, wanting to reach out to make Bakura hush but a sharp look from Nasir had him pull his hand back. Though he did glower at Nasir for it as he crossed his legs and sat back in the chair. “We caught you stealing from my guests. You’re either stupid or bold, thinking you could lie to me. Which is it?” Bakura pressed his lips together as they glared at each other, both as stubborn as the other. Marik leaned over the desk, shoulders tense. “ANSWER ME!”

Marik rarely lost his temper and both Rishid and Nasir started at the outburst. Bakura used the momentary surprise to his advantage, lunging toward the desk. “Bakura! No!” Ryou jumped from his chair, grabbing at his brother as Nasir shoved his own brother back, grabbing Bakura’s shirt and cocking his arm back. Ryou held his hand up as though he could block Nasir’s punch. “Don’t!”

Rishid fisted Bakura’s ponytail and yanked him back into the chair, smacking him against his temple. Ryou made a choked noise. “Stay. Down.” Rishid shook Bakura by the hair, tone all deadly strength. “Or we will make it so your brother never dances again.” Bakura grimaced but stopped struggling, Ryou sitting slowly with nothing but hatred in his eyes. “Now. Answer the question.”

Bakura spat on the floor and received another smack upside the head for it. “Yeah, I was stealing some shit. Gonna turn me into the cops? Because they might be interested to know that some of your staff are selling more than just the fantasy down there.”

The Ishtars looked between them, Nasir moving to let Marik sit down once more. “Oh? And do you think I’m unaware of what happens in my club?” He gave Ryou an appraising look. “Yes, we sell more than fantasies. We sell the reality. How do you think we got to be the most exclusive club in Domino?” Marik tapped his nails against the desk, sharp eyes on Ryou. “Fortunately for you, I’m in a benevolent mood. We’ll let you go. For now. But we’re keeping your take tonight. Both of yours.” Ryou tried to protest, but Marik kept going. “And you can work off the rest of the debt. Or we fuck up Ryou’s knees and he’ll be lucky to even walk again.”

Ryou swallowed. He loved dancing and he was good at it. Their mother had gotten him into it, with their little sister. It was his connection to them now that they were… If he couldn’t dance anymore… He turned his head to Bakura. “Hisato…”

Bakura wouldn’t look at him. He knew what dancing meant to his baby brother. And he would do anything to protect him. “How long? Until we work off what we owe you?”

Marik grinned. “Well, Thief. That depends on how industrious you are.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Contains a scene of Bakura smoking weed)

Ryou didn’t say a word when they got back to their flat, leaving Bakura to lock up as he went straight to the shower. The water was like ice by the time he got out and so was the temperature in their flat. At least Ryou could blame his shaking on the cold and not his frayed nerves. Wrapped up in as many towels as he could find, he stood at the edge of the living room, glaring at his brother where he sat on the sofa, taking a drag on a blunt. “That’s just going to give you the munchies.”

Bakura held the smoke in his lungs and blew it out slowly. “Sit your ass down and breathe it in. You need to relax.” Ryou rolled his eyes but went to his room, slipping into a pair of old sweatpants before joining Bakura on the sofa. Bakura took his time with the joint, blowing smoke in Ryou’s direction until his hands stopped trembling. “I’m sorry.” He pressed the blunt’s cherry against the ashtray until it went out. “I got cocky. Everyone was so busy staring at you and I forgot about the cameras. But everything worked out.”

“What? WHAT?!” Bakura regretted putting out his joint as Ryou’s voice rose. “We have to work for those horrible people now and we didn’t even get to keep anything tonight! I’m cold, Hisato. I’m cold and I’m tired and now I have to strip until they decide we’re not indebted to them anymore!” He laughed dryly, covering his face with his hands. “Everything worked out. God.”

Wrinkling his nose, Bakura couldn’t look at Ryou. “But you didn’t get hurt. They figured that out real fast. I wouldn’t do anything that lead to you getting hurt.” Ryou sighed. “I’ll get another job. Maybe you can call Dad?” His brother gave him a look that clearly said he thought he was crazy. “Or not.” Bakura stood, rifling in the interior of his coat. “I’m gonna grab a shower. Here.” Unceremoniously, he dropped a thick wad of cash onto Ryou’s lap. “I’d be a pretty shitty thief if I hadn’t saved something.”

“How…?” Ryou snapped the rubber band off and counted the money. His shoulders dropped in relief. It’d be enough to get the heat turned back on, but not much more than that. Bakura simply patted Ryou’s head and left for his shower. Ryou laid his head back on the sofa, staring out the dark window. “What have we gotten ourselves into?”

 

* * *

 

Nasir had pulled a chair closer to Marik’s desk, a fresh beer at hand, piles of cash spread over the desk surface. Bass from Marik’s private sound system thudded through the floor, Nasir’s head bobbing as he counted the night’s take. The sun tried to peek through the blackout curtains as it rose, but he was in a groove and couldn’t be bothered to open the curtains. He knew Marik was back when the volume on the stereo went down. “You’re going to go deaf.” Marik tossed several piles of cash on the table. Unlike most of the current banknotes, his was comprised solely of 10,000 yen bills. He fell back onto his chair, dangling his legs over the arm.

“I was in the middle of counting, asshole.” He moved Marik’s cash to its own pile. “Not as much tonight. Kaiba getting stingy?”

Marik shrugged, taking the banknotes and flipping through it. “Only wanted a bj. He’s got some big meeting in a few days and you know how he is after that.”

Nasir snorted. “I’ll put your numbing cream in the fridge.” He jotted down the total and tapped his pen against his notepad. “We bringing any new dancers in? It’s going to cut into our profits.”

A wave of his hand dismissed his twin’s concerns. “Just the one.” He tugged a few of the banknotes free, handing them over to Nasir and then taking a few for himself.

“That Ryou kid?” Nasir rolled up the bills and tucked them into his pocket. He wasn’t all that upset that Ryou would have to be working for them. A pretty little spitfire, that one. He’d hoped Marik would offer him a contract. That he and his brother didn’t have a choice but to work for them was even better, though Nasir could have done without the brother.

“Mmhm,” Marik hummed. “What’d he dance as? Angel? Ha!” He smirked. “Our little fallen angel. And that idiot brother of his. Gods, what a fucker.”

“Haven’t seen anyone rile you up so fast in years.”

Marik picked at some imaginary lint on his shirt. “He pissed me off.”

“Because he was almost prettier than you?”

“Oh fuck off.”

Nasir chuckled, tapping the money as he stood. “Happily. Night, bro.” Marik nodded, stretching as he stood, throwing open the curtains once Nasir closed the door behind him. His night wasn’t over yet, but he couldn’t get the thief out of his head. Even when he’d been on his knees before his client, the thief had been on his mind. His pale skin flushed with indignation, the way his dark eyes flashed with anger… if Nasir hadn’t pushed him back, Marik might have grabbed his shirt and kissed him. He touched his lips, smiling to himself. It’d been awhile since anyone inspired him to actual passion. They’d come to blows eventually. Or blowjobs. Marik shook his head. Enough daydreams. Time to move some money.

 

* * *

 

Ryou propped his heel on the counter and laced up the black thigh-high boot covering his leg. With the little bit of extra from paying the heating bill, he’d gone out and bought a few new things. The boots had been a splurge but he’d make it back in tips. He hoped. He’d just started on the other boot when a familiar set of hips settled on the counter next to his foot. “Surprised to see you back, sugar. Figured you’d be a one and done.”

“So did I.” He smiled ruefully up at Valentine. “Looks like I’m the only one who wasn’t.”

“Namu only picks the best.” She shot him a finger-gun. “Which must mean you.”

“Namu?”

“Yeah. You know. The boss.” Valentine sat on the chair beside him. “Didn’t he introduce himself when you signed the contract?” Ryou shook his head, not offering the details of what lead to him “being hired” as a dancer. “Okay, so Namu’s the big boss. Owns the place. Better than other places really, because he’s hands on. Rumor is that he used to dance too. The one that looks like Namu on acid is Leo.”

“His twin.” Ryou frowned. Namu did look pretty enough to be a dancer, but he couldn’t see him having the temperament for it.

“Exactly. Silent but deadly is Eagle.” She looked up in the mirror. “Speak of the devil.”

“And he shall appear,” Eagle met her eyes in the mirror, arms crossed, and Ryou understood why Valentine had called him silent but deadly. “Where’s Thief?”

Ryou finished applying his lip tint, eyes narrowing. Eagle simply gave him a blank look, unfazed by the coldness in Ryou’s eyes. “Did you check the bar?” Eagle nodded, heading in that direction.

Valentine whistled low. “Don’t know what happened, but you don’t wanna be on his bad side.” She turned to the mirror to adjust her bra top. “Eagle’s a good guy. Whatever it is, you gotta let it go.” Ryou gave her a hard look. “You’re too young to be so jaded, sugar. It’s not a good look on you.”

“Val!” Dice wolf-whistled at her. “Need your music.”

“Listen, Angel.” Valentine sighed, patting Ryou’s shoulder. “If you’re gonna be here awhile, you gotta learn to respect the system. They pay us to bring money in for them. We do good, they’ll take care of us. They’re not that bad.” With a final fluff to her hair, Valentine stomped out, heels clicking on the floor.

Ryou grimaced at his reflection. “Yeah, but they’re not paying me.”

 

* * *

 

Rishid loomed over Bakura and the thief reminded him of an angry cat. “See that door?” Rishid pointed to the backstage door on the other side of the club from the bar. “No one goes through there.”

Bakura leaned around him. “Not even for the champagne room?”

“You really don’t know shit.” Nasir slunk out of the shadows, leaning against the wall. “Guarding the private rooms is my job.” He fist-bumped Rishid. “Can you get the doors? Not in the mood tonight.”

“When are you ever?” Nasir gave his older brother an unrepentant grin. Rishid shook his head. “You give us any problems tonight and it won’t be you suffering for it. Got it?”

Bakura saluted him, flipping him off as soon as Rishid’s back was turned. Nasir slapped his hand down. “Asshole. Come on. Let me show you around.” He showed Bakura the basics: fire exits, bathrooms, the quickest ways from backstage to the private rooms without crossing the floor again. “No one backstage. I don’t give a fuck how much money they offer you. No one back there. They want a lap dance or something, send them to Dice. They want something more, send ‘em to me.”

“How much more?” Bakura’s fingers toyed with the velvet curtains blocking the path to the private rooms. A similar set marked the backstage access where he’d be stationed.

Nasir smirked. “We’re a full service establishment. Costs vary by dancer and patron. Extras cost more.”

“Extras?”

“Most surprising thing about your pull last night was that you didn’t pick up any drugs.” He nodded to one of the girls who slipped by them.

Bakura watched her go ambivalently. “Figured they brought shit in with them. Don’t touch it myself.”

“Good,” Nasir nodded, watching the crowd trickle in. “And no touching the girls either.”

“Also not gonna be a problem. Girls aren’t my thing.”

Nasir’s gaze jumped to Bakura, giving him a quick once-over. “Hm. Either of those things going to be a problem for your brother?” Bakura shook his head. “Good. Get your ass over to your post and outta my face.”

The crowd was subdued though the dancers and Duke tried their best. Bakura found the work dreadfully boring. The dancers exited behind the curtain and only the occasional wait staff went by him to head outside for a smoke. The most interesting thing Bakura noticed was the distracted look on Nasir’s face when Ryou danced. He filed that info away for potential use later. If one more patron asked him where the bathrooms were though…

Bakura stretched, cracking his back as Dice lifted the house lights. It wasn’t a tough job and if he’d been getting paid, he might have actually enjoyed it. Ryou emerged from backstage, hurrying up to his brother and patting his arm. “Hey! Ready to go home? I need a shower.” The way Ryou grinned up at him, Bakura suspected Ryou liked his job at least.

“Yeah, gotta grab-”

Rishid materialized out of nowhere, blocking them. “Namu wants you upstairs.” Ryou shouldered his bag with a sigh. “Not you. Just Thief.”

“But he and I-”

“Thief. Alone.” Rishid crossed his arms, not interested in their arguments or the way Ryou scowled at him.

Bakura nudged his brother. “It’s okay. Probably wants to yell at me. Again.” He mocked a salute at Rishid before heading off to the upstairs door.

 

* * *

 

“Shut the door.” Marik leaned back in his chair, the screens on his desk casting a glow on his face. His eyes scanned over Bakura. “Is that really what you worked in? You look like a slob.” Bakura frowned. They were his best jeans and a plain white tee that he was fairly certain was clean. “The shitkickers are fine. The rest needs to go.”

“Hey, how about this? Fuck you.” Still, Bakura fidgeted from his position near the door which only pissed him off more.

Marik grinned slyly. “You couldn’t afford me.” He pushed back from the desk and stood and Bakura’s jaw hit the floor. His legs were covered in thigh-high black leather boots that put the pair Ryou had bought to shame. Boots that drew eyes to the strip of caramel skin above them before disappearing under a pair of lavender vinyl booty shorts, tiny enough that Bakura had to swallow at the thought of how his ass must be hanging out of them in the back. A black leather harness matched the boots, crisscrossing his chest over a black fishnet shirt. His eyes had been lined darker than the previous night, making him look like some sort of dessert fantasy with his blonde hair arranged over his shoulders. He leaned back against the desk, ankles crossed, perfectly pleased with Bakura’s reaction. “We have business to discuss.”

“Like that?” Bakura was too busy thinking about the horror movies Ryou made him watch, anything to keep his boner in check. Marik gave him a dry look. “You got a date or something?”

“My personal life is none of your concern.” His mouth twitched. “But yeah, something like that. I need you to do something for me. Something I need a thief for.” Bakura moved to the sofa, sinking down onto the cushions. “I’m moving money tomorrow morning. Need you to scope out the drop today. Then you’ll go with Eagle tomorrow. Make sure I don’t lose any money.”

Bakura snorted. “Isn’t that the opposite of what a thief does?”

Marik simply checked his nails. “I’m trusting you to do a better job casing the location than you did of my club. After all, you have better incentive now.”

“Ryou.” Bakura gritted his teeth.

“Mm.” Marik’s grin reminded Bakura of an exceedingly spoiled cat. Marik straightened from the desk, hips swaying slightly as he stepped between the chairs, crossing the distance between them. He leaned down over Bakura, grin sharpening as Bakura’s eyes went hazy with lust. There was a reason he was the best. Getting inside his customers’ heads, being their every fantasy, anticipating their desires, it was a better high than any of the designer drugs they peddled. Playing Bakura like this was hardly a challenge. “Leo will give you the location. Don’t disappoint me, Thief.” He licked his lips, backing up as Bakura leaned forward, entranced.

He would have enjoyed teasing Bakura even more, but Leo’s voice crackled through his earpiece. “Kaiba’s here.”

Marik sighed. “Time to go.” Bakura tightened his jaw as Marik turned, the shorts revealing the curve of his ass. He bent over the table, retrieving a few banknotes, and waving them in front of his face. “Get yourself something better to wear. You work for me now and I only keep the most beautiful things around me. You’re not meeting my standards.”

Bakura pushed himself to his feet and stomped over to Marik. He would have loved to look down on him, but Marik’s boots made him taller than the few inches he already had on Bakura. Bakura snatched the money out of his hand, horny and frustrated. “Fuck you.” Marik opened his lips, but a chime rang through his office, drawing his eyes to the other door where Kaiba would be waiting. Bakura followed his gaze. “Someone who can afford you. Enjoy your date, boss.”

The sound of the door slamming behind Bakura didn’t bring Marik as much pleasure as he thought it would.

 

* * *

 

Ryou sat at the end of the stage, swinging his legs. He covered a yawn. He’d changed into his sweats but still needed a shower. Bakura was taking longer than he thought but Ryou didn’t feel comfortable leaving him behind. Everyone else had left except for the cleaning crew who mostly ignored him. Ryou turned at the sound of someone walking behind them, craning his neck up at Nasir standing over him.

“Why’re you here?”

“Ba-” He stopped himself. None of them used their real names so why should he. “Thief. Your brother wanted to see him. Soon as they’re done, we’re out.” Ryou scrunched his nose. “For the night, anyways.”

Nasir looked unsure, like he was fighting a decision within himself, before sitting down next to Ryou. It finally allowed Ryou to get a good look at him. Marik might have been the prettier twin, but Ryou preferred Nasir’s look, something a little more untamed, a little sharper about him. If he didn’t hate them so much, Ryou might have almost found Nasir attractive. They sat in silence for a few minutes until Nasir cleared his throat. “Why? Why stripping?”

Ryou shrugged. “Why do most people do it? We needed the money and I’m a damn good dancer.” Nasir lifted a brow. “Being humble loses you jobs and kills your chances. I know I’m good. Didn’t expect to make a career out of it.”

He let the barb go. “These people are going to eat you alive.”

Ryou tossed his head back as he laughed. “Please. My last director fired me and said it was because I gained weight. I’d lost weight, working my ass off for him. Perfection. They’re always looking for perfection. My last auditions? Too short, too tall, too femme, too ethnic, not ethic enough, didn’t jump high enough. These people-” Ryou waved his hand over the empty tables and chairs. “They’re just noise. I’m not scared of them.”

“You’re so naïve.”

“Or maybe you’re jaded.” Ryou shook his head. “People always think I’m some sweet innocent princess that needs to be saved, but fuck that. Life isn’t pretty. Life is cold and hard and you’re lucky if it doesn’t suck more than it does. That’s it.” He tossed his hair over his shoulder. “I’m just trying to get by.”

They both turned to the door as it slammed shut behind Bakura, Ryou hopping off the stage. Bakura scanned the floor, hands in his pockets as he came over to them. “Namu wants me to scout the drop. Wants you to tell me where it is.”

“Putting you to work already? Good.” Nasir rattled off an address by the piers. “Better go this morning.”

Ryou looked between them, torn between offering to go with his brother and telling Nasir off. Bakura picked up Ryou’s bag. “What do you have in here? Bricks? Come on. I’ll take you home first.”

“It’s my boots,” Ryou lied, praying Nasir wouldn’t decide to check his bag and the tips he’d squirreled away inside. Bakura threw the bag over his shoulder, flipping off Nasir and nudging Ryou to the exit. One glance behind him and Ryou found his face flooding with heat from the way Nasir was staring at his ass.

Nasir didn’t move until the door closed behind them. They were going to be trouble for them with their attitudes. “Must run in the family,” he muttered to himself.


	3. Chapter 3

“Anything else?” Marik swirled the cognac in his glass. Nasir had his hip perched on the desk corner though he knew Marik hated it. Rishid guarded the door while Bakura sat on the sofa, giving his report. He’d gone to the location as directed, noting the crowds in the area, mostly dock workers who had ignored him, and positions of the security cameras. There were a few alleys out of sight of the cameras and crowds and they all smelled like dead fish and worse things.

“When are we going?” Below them, bass started thrumming through the floor as Dice got to work.

Rishid frowned at Bakura. “You think this is wise? Sending him with me?” Marik’s look was cold, irritated at his judgement being questioned, especially in front of someone outside the family. “Fine. An hour after we close. Meet me at the back door. Wear a hat.”

Bakura nodded and stood. “We good here?”

The Ishtar brothers glanced at each other. Marik gestured to the door with his glass. “Go on. Thief and I are going to have a chat.” Bakura’s groan earned a chuckle from Nasir as he swept by. “Now that almost hurts my feelings.”

“You don’t have feelings.” Bakura flopped back onto the sofa, spreading his arms across the back. Marik lifted a shoulder, pushing himself up to fix another drink and pouring a shot’s worth into another glass. He walked over, Bakura silently thanking the powers that be that Marik was dressed normally tonight, though Bakura was certain his slacks alone cost more than Bakura’s entire outfit. The glass drew his attention, Marik holding it before his face in offering. “Thanks. Do I need to worry about poison?”

Marik rolled his eyes as Bakura took the glass. “Like I would get my own hands dirty.” He sat next to Bakura, angled toward him as they drank. “You went shopping today.”

Bakura’s nose twitched which Marik found adorable. He studied his glass. “You told me to.” He still wore the same shitkickers, though Marik suspected they’d been scrubbed up. Black jeans fit around his calves and thighs, a basic black tee clinging to his shoulders. He needed a little filling out and Marik made a note to send him to the gym with Nasir and Rishid.

“Going to do everything I tell you to?” Marik smirked behind his glass. “That’ll be interesting.”

He hated how his face felt warm from Marik’s teasing. “Why did you want to talk to me?” Bakura set down his glass. He started to turn to face Marik, freezing to find Marik an inch away from his nose. “N-Namu…”

“How hard did you cum? After our talk yesterday.” His eyes roved over Bakura. “How hard did you cum thinking about me?”

Bakura tried to back up, stopped by the arm of the sofa, Marik advancing into the space. “What are you…? We’re not having this conversation.”

“Yes. We are.” He leaned closer, whispering into Bakura’s ear, hand braced on Bakura’s knee. “How hard?”

Hard enough that he’d almost passed out in the shower and spent so much time trying to collect himself that Ryou had finally knocked on the door. But he wasn’t going to admit that, especially not to Marik. “You’re a damn cocktease.”

“Only to those who can’t pay.” Marik finally sat back. Bakura’s red face and tight voice told him all he needed to know. “Get out. I don’t pay you to sit around.”

Bakura knocked back the rest of the cognac. “You don’t pay me at all.” He gave Marik a look that almost made him shiver. Almost.

Marik watched him go, admiring how the denim covered his ass, and sipped on his liqueur. “Damn.”

 

* * *

 

Ryou stood on his toes, going over his set list with Dice. He knew he needed to scoot backstage, patrons filling in at the bar and tables. He wasn’t paying attention though, focused on making sure Dice had his songs, when he felt someone bump into him, knocking him off the ledge. “Watch it!”

A lady giggled, wrapping her arm around his waist, deaf to Dice’s shouts to get off. “How much for a private show? You’re so pretty!” She brushed at Ryou’s hair, oblivious to the tension in his body. “Come on, I’ll buy you a drink too.”

“No, I’m not, please stop, get off-” Ryou teetered on his heels, trying to push the customer away. “Get-” A dark arm curled around his chest, bracing him, the woman before him impersonating a fish as she gaped up at Nasir looming over them.

“He said no.” Nasir righted Ryou and hooked his arm around the woman, stirring her toward the back rooms. “But I assure you, we have something you’ll like even better. Have you seen Bandit?” Nasir glanced at Ryou once, assuring himself he was okay, and walked the woman away.

Dice leaned over the edge of his stand. “You okay, Angel?” Ryou nodded slowly, still feeling Nasir’s arm around him. “Alright. Go on back. I’ll put a couple girls before you. Shake it off.”

Ryou patted the stand. “Yeah. Thanks, Dice.”

Dice grabbed his hand. “It’s Duke.” He winked at Ryou. “But don’t tell the boss I told you.”

 

* * *

 

“So now, in addition to watching the exits, I gotta watch you too.” Bakura dumped half his closet onto the floor as Ryou watched from his bed. “Where the bloody hell is my hat?”

“Should I ask what they have you doing? Other than haunting me.”

“No.” Bakura hopped up, knocking things off the shelf. “Ha! Found it!” He jammed the baseball cap down over his hair. “How do I look?”

“Like an American.” Ryou gestured him over, pulling his brother’s hair into a low ponytail. “What was with the new clothes tonight?”

“What was with the new boots?”

“Touché.” Ryou hugged Bakura from behind. “Be careful. Please.”

Bakura took Ryou’s hand, waiting for Ryou to squeeze his fingers before squeezing back. “You know I will.”

 

* * *

 

He didn’t like being left in the car. He didn’t like being unable to understand as Rishid and the two fuckers in the alley spoke Arabic. He really didn’t like their sing-song voices or the way the shorter one kept sizing him up. But what Bakura really didn’t like was the way the taller one kept touching his pocket, as though he was checking something. Bakura slipped out of the car, leaving the door open behind him, sneaking up behind the taller one. It was a stretch but Bakura’s knife pressed against the guy’s throat. “Why don’t we cut this bullshit? Give my pal what we came for and get the fuck outta here.”

Red coated his knife edge as they objected to the mistreatment, but finally the smaller one turned over a key and a name to Rishid who handed over a backpack full of cash. Bakura relieved the other of his gun and shoved him away. “Next time, don’t try to fuck with us.” He pocketed the gun, scowling as they scurried away like roaches, finally turning his attention to Rishid. “All that for a fucking key?”

“And a name.” Rishid smiled, already texting Marik that the exchange was made. “There’s a lot you don’t know, Thief.” He tucked his phone and the key into his jacket. “Get in the car. I’ll drive you home.”

 

* * *

 

“So how did he do?” Marik turned the key over in his hand. He would have gotten the key regardless, but being able to test Bakura was an added benefit.

Rishid blew the heat off his coffee before sipping it. All he honestly wanted was to go to his flat, shower off the day, and sleep for a few hours before repeating the process, but Marik would never have let him rest without a full accounting. “You would have approved. Luna was packing. I wasn’t too worried about it - not even they are quite that stupid - but Thief noticed and stepped in. Luna’s going to be wearing turtlenecks for a few days.” Rishid cracked a small grin. “Thief lacks patience but not bravado. He’s a good asset.” Marik stood to lock the key in his safe, Rishid noting the tension in his shoulders. “You need a break. You’ve been going too hard again.”

“You know what happens if I don’t.” He shook his head, rolling his shoulders. “I won’t risk it.”

Rishid’s hand covered his youngest brother’s shoulder. “And I know what happens if you do. Promise me you’ll rest.” Marik’s thin smile was the only agreement he could get.

 

* * *

 

 

Bakura slunk into Min Saboten early. The place didn’t look right to him in the daylight, but he needed to speak to Marik. Rent was due and tips Ryou snuck home were good, but they weren’t quite that good even after several weeks of working there. They needed the money and rather than worry his brother about it, Bakura was swallowing his pride to ask their boss. It would come with a price, Bakura was sure, but needs must.

The sound system was on, but Dice wasn’t at the stand. Bakura frowned from the shadowed doorway at the empty club floor. The stage lights flickered to life and as the next song started, Marik appeared from the curtains. Bakura hung back, eyes locked on the stage.

Marik slipped onto the stage, his boots clicking, a perfect metronome to his hips swaying. Black vinyl encased his hips this time, yet Bakura barely saw them for all the gold adorning Marik’s skin. Gold bracers covered his forearms, gold bands around his biceps, a thick gold choker, and dangly earrings that caught the lights as he tossed his hair from side to side. He hooked an ankle around the pole, spinning slowly, showing off to an imaginary audience. Bakura swallowed. Marik ground against the metal and tipped his head as he pretended to lick it. He hoisted himself up, legs kicking over his head and spread wide as he spun.

Bakura stopped trying to swallow; his mouth had gone completely dry, hanging open. Marik moved like he owned the stage, the pole, the audience, the entire world. His fingers trailed from his lips, down the gold at his throat, over his chest, and Bakura bit back a groan as Marik’s hand covered the front of his shorts. Bakura adjusted his own erection, completely focused on the stage.

_ Would you like me to seduce you? Is that what you’re trying to tell me? _

He braced himself against the wall, breathing heavily so he didn’t make a mess in his jeans. Marik mimed jacking himself off, head tipped back, back arched, straightening with a smirk. Bakura bit his lip to stifle the needy moan that threatened as Marik slid down the pole again. His ass popped as he landed in a squat, tossing his hair over his shoulder, finishing his routine with a wink – something Bakura almost missed as he gaped at Marik’s back.

Fine dark lines covered his skin from shoulders to hips, stretching with his muscles. Bakura’s eyes narrowed. The lines were dark enough to be tattoos but it almost seemed like they cast shadows. He almost stepped from the darkness to ask when Marik snapped back to his feet, hopping off the stage to grab a loose tank top from one of the tables. He wiped off his face and circled to the DJ stand to cut the sound. Bakura held his breath, thief reflexes kicking in, Marik only a few feet away. He turned as he pulled on his top, unknowingly affording Bakura a view of his back.

His scarred back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marik's song is "Too Funky" by George Michael.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Posting this via my tablet. Sorry for any formatting errors!)

Bakura ducked back into the dressing rooms as Marik went upstairs. His cock and balls still ached but he was preoccupied with the marks on Marik’s back. Had he had it done to himself? Had someone else done it? Bakura groaned, scraping his hand over his face. They needed rent money. He had to focus. Quietly, he snuck upstairs, picking the lock on Marik’s office door to let himself in. The shower in the ensuite was on so he helped himself to two fingers of bourbon and stretched out on the sofa to wait, keeping his hands occupied with the glass rather than himself.

Marik emerged as Bakura took his last sip of the liquor. With a towel clinging to his hips, Bakura noticed how Marik’s bare shoulders noticeably tensed. His eyes flicked to his clothes on the desk, just out of reach, and back to Bakura. “What the fuck are you doing here? How’d you get in?”

“Thief, remember?” Bakura set his glass down. Marik couldn’t turn around to go back to the bathroom without showing his back and walking backwards would have been too obvious.

They glared at each other before Marik spat out, “Don’t most competent thieves leave the scene before getting caught?” His hair hung around his face, dripping down his chest and Bakura’s eyes freely followed the water. “You’re starting to piss me off again.”

“I need money.”

“Then you’re a pitiful thief if you’re in my office and didn’t take any.”

“Stealing from you is what got me into this mess.”

Marik crossed his arms over his chest, gloating. “Well, he can be taught.” Bakura flipped him off. “So what if you need money? Why are you trying to make this my problem?” He stretched for a clean t-shirt, pulling it on quickly.

Bakura tossed his head. “Rent’s due tomorrow. If we don’t pay, we’ll get kicked out. I was going to ask what I could do to earn it tonight, but…” Marik arched a brow at him. “But now I’m wondering how much not asking about those scars on your back is worth to you.”

If Marik could go pale, Bakura thought he would have. He recovered quickly, lifting his chin. “What in the hell are you talking about? I don’t have any scars.”

“No?” Bakura shifted to sit up, resting his forearms on his spread-wide knees. “I’m sure most people are too busy staring at your perfect ass to notice them. But they’re there.” He picked up his glass again, toying with the empty glass. “I saw you dancing downstairs.”

“I ought to charge you for the show. Nothing here is free.” Marik spun on his heel, dropping his towel as he snatched a pair of jeans, affording Bakura a view of his naked ass as he pulled on the denim.

Bakura shrugged. “Then we’ll call it even. You don’t charge me for the dance and I don’t tell everyone about your back.” Marik leaned back against the desk and glared at his thief. He looked almost normal in a white tee and loose jeans and Bakura cursed his dick for getting just as hard for Marik as when he was all kitted out. “But I still need money tonight.”

“Nothing here is free,” Marik repeated.

“I’m aware.”

Marik looked thoughtful for a moment. “Ryou could easily earn the money. We’ve already had inquiries about him.”

Bakura shook his head. “He won’t.”

“You need the money.”

“He won’t.”

“Would you?”

Bakura looked at Marik steadily. “If I had to.”

Marik padded over to his liquor tray. “How much do you need?” He kept his tone matter-of-fact, adding ice to his glass before pouring bourbon over it. On the inside though, he was fighting himself. Bakura was incredibly pretty, the way a sharpened blade was pretty. But he’d learned long ago it was a bad idea to mix business and pleasure, actual pleasure, not the faked kind. Yet, Bakura was the first person who hadn’t been intimidated by Marik, who could hold his own, and Marik would wager that if Bakura had had the resources, they would have been rivals.

“Fifty-six thousand.”

He frowned, moving to sit in his desk chair. “That’s all? Why do you live in such a cheap area. That’s-”

“That’s none of your business.” Marik sipped his bourbon with a hum. “Look. If you’re not going to help me, just say so because then I need the night off.” Marik didn’t answer him. “Yeah, okay, fine. I’m outta here.” Bakura pushed himself to his feet, putting his dirty glass on the desk.

“Come here.” Marik pushed himself back from the desk, his command quiet. Their eyes met across the desk, Marik’s legs splayed in his seat. He looked so good that Bakura wanted to crawl across the desk and ride him until his thighs gave out.

Instead, he hesitated. “…how much and for what?”

Marik smirked. “Smart thief.” He knocked back the rest of the bourbon, setting his glass on the desk and pulling out a stack of bills. “Fifty-six thousand for a blowjob. Do a good enough job and I might tip you,” he teased as he counted out the money.

Bakura would have sucked him off for free, but knew better than to say that aloud. Dragging his fingers over the wood, he stepped around the desk to stand between Marik’s knees. “Why not make me work the floor?”

“Because I want a bj and I want to see your lips wrapped around my cock.” He grinned to watch color flood Bakura’s face. “If you’d rather hope you could earn enough on the floor…”

His goading worked, Bakura sinking to his knees. Marik slouched back in his chair, holding his shirt up as Bakura’s nimble fingers worked his jeans open. He chuckled, Bakura’s eyes widening at the thick length of Marik’s half-hard cock. Marik took himself in hand, stroking himself to full hardness, Bakura’s eyes dilating with want. He licked his lips and leaned forward, hands braced on the inside of Marik’s thighs, dragging the flat of his tongue up the underside of his cock, flicking at the head. His tongue circled Marik’s tip, curling his fist around his shaft to pull his foreskin down, sucking him into his mouth with a small noise.

Bakura lacked the finesse of a professional, but Marik didn’t find he minded all that much, fingers stroking through Bakura’s bangs, holding them away from his eyes. Bakura lifted his eyes to Marik’s, dropping his mouth lower. Marik rewarded him with a small groan. Bakura’s mouth stretched prettily around his dick, his tongue pressed against him. Once he had Marik coated with saliva, he bobbed his head, cheeks hollowing as he sucked. The taste of Marik’s skin, of his precum on his tongue, would have made Bakura whimper if his mouth hadn’t been occupied.

Marik’s hand fisted in Bakura’s hair, pulling his head up. It didn’t make him stop, his hand still jacking Marik against his tongue. Marik growled, eyes dark as he watched Bakura work his cock. “You’re going to swallow. Got it?” Bakura smirked, angling Marik’s dick back to his waiting mouth, sucking with a hum. Marik’s hips lifted off the chair, needing more, more of Bakura’s mouth, more of that wet tight heat. He was on edge already, bucking into Bakura’s mouth, head laid back and his eyes slipping closed.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard the door to his office open, felt Bakura slow down. Marik didn’t open his eyes, grabbing his empty glass and hurling it against the door, as he forced the entirety of his cock down Bakura’s throat. The glass made a pleasing sound as it shattered against the slamming door – but not as pleasing as the sound of Bakura gagging on his cock, his throat spasming around him. Marik groaned, throbbing against Bakura’s tongue, letting him pull back enough to swallow as Marik shot his load down his throat.

Bakura licked the cum away from his swollen lips as he popped off Marik’s dick. He definitely would have done that for free, if only for the chance to see Marik undone like this. Bakura chuckled, voice rough, as he got to his feet. “Am I going to be in trouble for blowing the boss?” He adjusted himself, the motion drawing Marik’s attention.

“Fuck it,” he said, pushing Bakura back against the desk, the edge of it pressing into his ass as Marik dropped to his knees, black lacquered nails making short work of Bakura’s button and zipper. He huffed at Bakura’s boxers, the stupid button falling to the floor when he ripped it off. Bakura opened his mouth to object, but then Marik’s hand was wrapped around him, and shortly after his lips were too.

Bakura grabbed onto the desk behind him, Marik not wasting any time teasing him or being gentle. No, instead Marik let saliva fill his mouth, drooling over Bakura’s dick as he deep-throated him, spit coating his lips and chin. It was messy and the noise was obscene and it was everything Bakura loved as he hung onto the desk for dear life. He wasn’t going to last and when Marik’s free hand dove into his boxers to fondle his balls, Bakura let his head fall back and yowled at the ceiling as he came.

Marik sat back on his heels, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. Bakura felt helpless as Marik rose to his feet, sliding their bodies together, Bakura’s overstimulated cock twitching against Marik’s jeans. Marik reached behind him, adding a few banknotes to Bakura’s pile. Bakura had to tip his head up to look Marik in the eyes. “…you know I can’t pay you for that.”

Marik’s lips curled up. “Then I guess you owe me.” He caught Bakura’s chin, their lips hovering, almost touching. Bakura thought to close the distance, but Marik kept a firm grip on his chin. Marik wanted it, wanted to kiss Bakura more than anything he’d wanted in awhile – except maybe that blowjob – but it would skew too close to a relationship rather than the business transaction it was. He forced himself to pull back, releasing Bakura, grinning as he swayed forward. “Take your money and get the fuck out of my office, Thief.”

 

* * *

 

“Well, it’s obvious Leo isn’t your real name.” Ryou held the split until a dull ache settled into his thighs and then held it a little longer. He rarely did a full split on stage but the stretch helped. He looked up from his position on the floor. Nasir leaned against the wall near the door. Though Bakura was Ryou’s unofficial bodyguard, Nasir acted like Ryou’s personal shadow in the club. Most of the other employees found Nasir intimidating, rumors of a hidden dark side that liked blood and violence and mind games a little too much. Ryou, however, found him comforting. He raised his arms over his head. “Are you going to tell me?”

Nasir snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. “No.” It was cute, that Ryou tried to get to know him, but Marik’s rules were clear: No fucking with the merchandise. Yet Nasir found himself disappearing whenever he could to spend time in Ryou’s presence. None of their other employees had ever caught his attention like Ryou. He stared at him from the corner of his eye and it was only with a lot of self-discipline that he kept himself from getting a boner.

“Why not?” Ryou curled to his feet, bending low to touch the floor. “Hardly seems fair that you know our names, but we can’t know yours. Surely your friends don’t call you Leo.”

“I don’t have friends.” Ryou swished his hair back to give him a skeptical look. Nasir shrugged. “I work, sleep, and hit the gym. Don’t have time for friends.” That miniscule amount of information was the most he’d told anyone outside the family about himself since they left Egypt. He wasn’t sure why he was talking so freely to Ryou, but then he still hadn’t figured out why he was so interested either. “Why Angel?”

“Valentine picked it.” Ryou rolled his eyes and stepped closer to Nasir, using his elbow for balance as he stretched his legs. Nasir tensed but Ryou didn’t flinch. “I didn’t like it at first, but now I’m just glad she didn’t tell Dice my name was Sugar.” He swung his leg up and Nasir caught his ankle. Nasir’s self-restraint almost snapped, holding Ryou’s delicate ankle, rough fingers almost circled all the way around it. Ryou’s hold on his elbow tightened and Nasir was impressed that he looked more intrigued than scared. “What’s your name?”

Nasir growled and dropped his ankle, moving out of Ryou’s hold. “Let it go, Angel.”

“Ryou.” He lifted his chin. “My name is Ryou.”

“Listen up, Angel,” Nasir emphasized his stage name. “I don’t know what type of guy you think I am, but I’m not one of those fat fucks out there that like to drool over your every hip swish.”

“No? Then why are you here?” Nasir growled in warning, yet Ryou kept on. “Why are you always here? With me? I only want to know your name.”

“Drop it.”

Duke poked his head in. He took one look at them and was halfway back out the door before he started talking. “This is Valentine’s last song. You’re next, Angel.”

Ryou nodded, slipping on his robe to walk to the stage and stopping next to Nasir. “It’s only your name, not your life story.”

That was enough for Nasir. His hand snapped out, grabbing Ryou’s robe and jerking them together. He bent down, snarling in Ryou’s face, eyes boring into Ryou’s widened gaze. “We’re not friends, got it? You’re nothing but ass candy to make money for us. A pretty whore, but a whore all the same.”

Ryou tore his arm away, the robe ripping in Nasir’s hand. Anger flushed his face and damn him, Nasir thought he was even prettier with pink coloring his cheeks. “Fuck you,” Ryou hissed. “Don’t ever call me a whore. I strip, but I’m not a whore.” He tossed his hair over his shoulder. “I’m a virgin.”

Of all the comebacks he could have given, that was the one that shocked Nasir into silence. He stared at Ryou as he stomped away. A virgin. Their little dirty star was a fucking virgin. He groaned and wiped at his face. Fuck. He had to tell Marik.

“Namu? I’m coming up.”

 

* * *

 

“You’re shitting me.” Marik stared at his twin, looking for any sign that this was a joke. He’d gotten cleaned up since Bakura’s departure, back in a button-down and black slacks. Of course sweet little Angel was a virgin. Of course. That was why his brother was so insistent that Ryou wouldn’t sell himself. Marik started laughing. “A virgin! Well, fuck.” Nasir grumbled, stealing a beer out of Marik’s mini fridge. “How’d you find out?”

“He told me.” Nasir threw the bottle cap away and settled against the wall behind the desk. He told himself it was just so he could talk to Marik and not because he wanted to watch Ryou on the screen. Yet his eyes stayed on the screen. “I called him a whore and he dropped that on me.”

Marik gave him a sly look. “Think he was telling the truth?” Ryou ground his hips against the pole, money scattered around his feet. Nasir nodded once. “Damn.” Marik tapped his pen on his desk with a speculative look. “We’re getting requests for him. How badly do you think he wants to work off that debt?”

That drew Nasir’s eyes to Marik. “Probably as bad as his brother.” Marik only grinned, the only acknowledgement of what Nasir had walked in on. “What are you thinking?”

His twin smirked, pointing at the screen. “Virgins have a higher asking price. He only has to sell himself for one, very important, very lucrative night.”

 

* * *

 

Rishid met Ryou as he came offstage after his last number. “Namu wants you upstairs.” Ryou didn’t get a chance to ask why before Rishid stalked off.

Fuck Namu. Ryou was peevish enough to make Marik wait, grabbing a shower and changing into his sweatpants, a long-sleeved shirt, and his sneakers before making his way upstairs. He hadn’t seen Bakura most of the night, except once from the stage. Ryou figured Marik had him on another assignment and fully expected to find him in Marik’s office. Instead, Marik sat at his desk, talking with Nasir. They ignored Ryou as he flopped into one of the chairs, arms crossed over his chest. “What did you want now?”

Ryou really didn’t like the predatory grin Marik gave him when they finally acknowledged him. “Angel. Sweet, innocent Angel.” Ryou’s eyes narrowed at the emphasis on innocent, glaring at Nasir who refused to look at him. “You’re a good dancer, but at this rate…” Marik tapped his keyboard. “I’m afraid you’re not going to earn enough until at least next year to pay us back. Yes, probably not for another eight months. At least.”

His mouth fell open. Ryou knew that they’d be stuck here for awhile, but until next year? He already had skipped auditions and missed a callback because he couldn’t commit to dancing in a show when he was figuratively chained to working for Min Saboten. “That’s bullshit! You don’t pay us, you’re keeping most of my tips, you’ve got Bakura doing your dirty work for free. That’s complete bullshit!”

“And yet, that’s how it is.” Marik leaned back in his chair. “Unless…”

Ryou wished Bakura were here. Marik was looking at him like a pinned butterfly. “Unless what?”

“We sell your virginity to the highest bidder.”

He felt like someone had pulled the chair out from under him. Sell himself… A distressed noise escaped Ryou. “N-no. No, I won’t.”

Marik shrugged. “Then you and your brother are stuck working for me.”

“Or maybe I’ll go to the cops.”

Marik simply laughed at him. “Good luck finding one I haven’t already bought off! Oh, and if you ever entertain that idea again, Angel, you’ll have to earn that money on your back because you’ll never dance again.”

“Fuck you,” Ryou hissed out. He got to his feet, shaking with rage. “Fuck you and fuck you.” He pointed at each of them. Nasir finally turned his head to look at Ryou, heart twisting at the betrayal that flashed in his eyes. “I told you I’m not a whore.” Ryou couldn’t stand the sight of him, giving them his back as he went to the door.

“See you tomorrow night, Angel.” Ryou flipped Marik off and slammed the door behind him.

Bakura met Ryou at the bottom of the stairs. “Hey.” Ryou grabbed his arm, tugging him to the dressing rooms. “Hey! What happened?”

“Those wankers! They think…” Ryou seethed, spinning his lock and yanking his locker open. “Think I would whore myself out. I cannot believe… God, I hate them! Can you believe their nerve?! Assholes.” When Ryou pulled his bag free and turned to his brother, Bakura looked like he was going to be sick. “Hisato? What’s-”

Ryou’s bag was ripped from his hand. Without a word, Rishid took it to the counter, unzipping it while Ryou stood there in shock. Banknotes slowly covered the space as Rishid emptied the bag of the tips Ryou had managed to squirrel away for the night. Satisfied he’d taken everything, Rishid closed the bag and handed it back to Ryou. He wouldn’t take it, so Bakura did. Ryou’s lip trembled, but he wouldn’t lower himself to cry in front of them. “...I hate you.”

“Most do. They’re not important enough for me to hate back.” Gathering the money, Rishid left them, taking it upstairs to Marik as he’d been told to do.

Bakura waited next to Ryou as he reigned in his emotions. He would have loved to knock Eagle out, or at least try. “I hate them,” Ryou said with a shaky voice. “That was our rent money.”

“...I have it.” Ryou turned his head with a quizzical look. “I have our rent money. And a little extra.” Bakura pulled a wad of banknotes from his pocket.

“How? How did you…?” Ryou’s hands closed over the roll.

Bakura pressed it into his hands. “Not all of us have your morals.” Before Ryou could question it, Bakura headed for the door. “Come on. Let’s go home.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Halfway through!

A few days before Christmas, Min Saboten closed its doors for its annual party. Marik worked behind the bar, slinging drinks for their employees. He almost seemed like he was in a good mood and that certainly didn’t have anything to do with a certain thief who had parked himself at the bar with his boss. His thief, who had apparently come dressed to kill with matte black leather pants stretched across his thighs, matching the black fingerless gloves he’d decided to sport, rolled his shoulders, the oxblood tee he’d chosen clinging to his chest. Marik had thought to tease him for dressing like a biker, but one glance at his leather-clad ass and he’d let it go. Clearly the clothing allowance Marik gave him was going to good use.

Across the floor, Ryou spun around, dancing with the rest of the crew, his laughter blending with the new music Duke blasted over the speakers. For one night, Ryou wasn’t going to worry about money or owing the Ishtars or fighting for his time in the spotlight. No, he intended to relax and live in the moment. Nasir watched the crowd from the stage, though his eyes never strayed from Ryou. Most nights, Ryou danced for himself. Fuck the people watching; he danced because he wanted to. Tonight though, he was showing off for one particular person, shivering as he felt Nasir’s attention on him. And likewise, Ryou kept stealing glances at Nasir, at the way his distressed jeans covered his legs, the shadowy v of his crotch, his muscled arms on display thanks to the black tank he wore. Ryou threw his arms in the air, his cropped sleeveless hoodie revealing more of his body, the body glitter flashing on his skin in the lights. Nasir set his empty beer bottle aside, wondering if he’d imagined Ryou watching him as the other slipped towards the bar.

Marik stood atop the bar, his booty shorts riding up as he bent over, pouring shots into Bakura’s mouth and for anyone else who came up to distract him from his thief, like Ryou who opened his mouth obediently for a shot before dashing behind the bar to grab a beer for Nasir. Bakura’s hand smoothed over Marik’s calf, getting another shot for the attention, Marik squatting lower in front of his thief. “Having fun?”

Bakura grinned, freely running his hand up Marik’s thigh. “Watching your tight ass in those little shorts? You bet.” Marik smirked, rubbing his thumb over Bakura’s lower lip, not entirely surprised as Bakura tried to sneak his hand higher. “Any chance of showing these amateurs how it’s really done?”

Marik hummed, getting to his feet, to pass more shots, finally coming back once he’d cleared the bar for a moment. “Depends on what I can get out of the deal for a dance.”

A gloved hand curled into Marik’s tank top, pulling him closer, Bakura’s head tipped to the side as he purred in Marik’s ear. “Me. Bent over your desk. Screaming your name as you fuck my ass raw.”

With a grin, Marik pulled himself away, pouring a shot into his own mouth. He handed the bottle to Bakura and hopped off the bar. He pointed at Dice who nodded at Marik disappeared backstage. Dice lowered the lights as the song started, Marik stalking onto the stage, a pair of heels clicking on the stage. Everyone on the floor crowded to the edge of the stage, pounding on the floor and shouting for their boss. Marik’s hips and shoulders swayed, his hands smoothing down his sides to his hips. He lowered down to the floor, mouthing along with the song, bouncing back up and grabbing the pole. He swung his legs around, hooking one around the pole as he pulled himself higher. Curling the other leg around the pole, he leaned back, his body-hugging tank riding up as he bent back to grab the pole, the muscles in his arms and abs on display as he flipped over and slid down the pole.

Bakura had to remind himself to close his mouth and swallow. While everyone else cheered for Marik, Bakura couldn’t say a word. He’d seen Marik dance before but the thought that he was grinding against the pole now, eyes locked on Bakura with intent, and he’d be working Bakura over later… Bakura leaned back against the bar, legs splayed, eyes heavy lidded. The song ended far too soon, the crowd whining for more.

Marik laughed and met Bakura’s eyes, cocking his head to the door upstairs. He pulled another dancer onstage, giving over the spotlight. As long as the music kept playing and the liquor kept flowing, they wouldn’t notice that the boss had disappeared.

 

* * *

 

Ryou slipped away from the party with a giggle. Everyone was busy watching Marik dance, but Nasir had left and Ryou had summoned the nerve to go find him. He was just drunk enough that he might have tried to kiss him if things went well. He crept down the hallway, peeking into the empty private rooms. He'd only been in the back once and then he hadn't dared look into the rooms when they were being used. One at the very end of the hall had its lights on and Ryou figured they'd been left on by accident - until the music started. He pressed himself against the wall, the bass from the private room making it vibrate behind him. He almost turned around, not wanting to interrupt, but curiosity drew him forward, peeking through a crack at the edge of the curtain.

Nasir lounged on the sofa, arms spread wide over the back, knees splayed. Ryou's heart picked up at the heavy lidded look on Nasir's face and he almost pulled the curtain back until his line of sight was blocked. Val, swinging her hips to the beat, stepped between Nasir's legs. Ryou's mouth fell open as Val gave Nasir a lap dance, her hands petting his shoulders, chest, and thighs, his hands only moving to sip his beer. Ryou could feel his face heating, not from Val's dance, but because of the look on Nasir's face and his need to be the one to put that look there. Val ground her ass into Nasir's crotch and that was enough for Ryou, dashing back to the front of the club.

Nasir patted Val's ass lightly which made her huff, blonde hair tossed over her shoulder as she turned. "You're really not into it tonight."

He shrugged, drinking his beer. "Hard to get hard for my brother's girlfriend." Val's eyes widened in surprise. "I don't care."

"...does Namu know?"

Nasir nodded, moving his legs so Val could sit next to him. "Long as it doesn't affect your work or his, we're going to let it go. Eagle deserves happiness."

"Rishid." Val stole his beer, taking a long pull. "You think I would see someone and not know their name?"

He stole his beer back with a frown, rolling his eyes at his now empty bottle. He pushed himself to his feet to go back out front for another. "Keep that to yourself, yeah? That would piss Namu off."

"Hey, Leo."

"Yeah?" Nasir paused near the curtain, so close to where Ryou had been hiding.

Val gave him a shrewd look. "You sure me dating Rishid is the only reason you weren't into it?" Her lips twitched up in a teasing grin. "Didn't have anything to do with a certain little Angel?"

Nasir's eyes narrowed. "Mind your own business, Mai." Val's expression sobered immediately at Nasir's use of her real name. With an annoyed twitch of the curtain, he left her sitting there in shock.

 

* * *

 

Bakura bent low on his elbows, curving his spine to lift his ass as Marik pounded into him. He hadn’t bottomed in months and Marik’s thick length had him stretched wide. The chill of the lube helped. Marik’s fingers in his hair helped more. Bakura moaned, clenching around Marik as he ground against him. His cock ached but he didn’t dare touch himself, not wanting to end things too soon. Bakura dropped his head down, or tried to, Marik’s grip in his hair tightening and pulling him up, making him moan louder.

“Maybe… Maybe I’m trying to sell the wrong brother.” Marik grinned darkly, breathless as he fucked Bakura. He kept his other hand on Bakura’s hip, nails digging into his pale skin. The harder he was, the louder Bakura became, lighting Marik’s nerves with pleasure. Bakura took his cock like his ass was made for it. Bakura would make a good whore, but as Marik sunk into him, feeling Bakura’s muscles clutch greedily at his full length, he wanted to keep him all for himself. He pulled Bakura’s hair harder, forcing him up from the desk. “Nothing to say to that?”

“Nnnn… Ha-harder…” Marik chuckled, giving Bakura what he wanted, Bakura holding onto the desk as he bounced. He whined, head tipped back. “Nnn-Namu…”

Marik growled. He hated that name sometimes. That wasn’t what he wanted to hear, especially not from Bakura, not like this. But giving him his real name… Bakura cried out again, ass tight around Marik. Cursing to himself, Marik pulled out, turning Bakura around to face him and manhandling him onto the desk. Bakura’s eyes widened, displaying himself shamelessly, whimpering as Marik pushed back into him, fisting Bakura’s tee.

“Marik.”

Bakura blinked, lost in the feeling of Marik filling him again. “Hmm?”

Marik tugged his shirt, pulling Bakura closer, their lips brushing together. “Marik. My name. Say it.”

“…Marik.” Marik thrust harder into Bakura, hips snapping forward. “Marik!” Bakura scrambled to grab Marik’s shoulder with one hand, the other squeezing the base of his cock. “Marik, oh fuck… Fuck…” He knew he was a wreck, but Bakura didn’t care, too busy riding Marik’s dick. His own twitched and he slid his fist over himself, his body spasming around Marik.

“Do it,” Marik ordered. “Cum for me.” He was on the edge himself but he pushed Bakura back enough to see his fist glide up and down his shaft. His hand moved faster and faster, no rhythm to it, until Bakura arched his back, dick pulsing in his hand.

“MARIK!” Cum shot up over his shirt, cream stark against the dark red, ass squeezing Marik’s length. Marik’s nails dragged over Bakura’s thighs, a low noise pulled from him as he emptied into Bakura. They stayed like that a moment, breathing heavy and hearts beating hard, Bakura staring at the ceiling while Marik stared at him. Neither wanted to move, but both knew they couldn’t stay like that. “…fuck.”

Marik pulled out of him, smiling at Bakura spread out over his desk, fucked and dirty. “You can use my shower. Hurry up.”

“What? No pillow talk?” Bakura stood shakily, eying his shirt with disgust. “Ugh.”

Marik rolled his eyes, getting something to wipe himself off. “Go shower before I make you go home with my jizz dripping from your ass.”

 

* * *

 

Mai dropped her keys into a bowl by the front door and slipped off her shoes with a sigh.

“Did you enjoy yourself?”

Rishid sat on the sofa, holding out a glass of water for her. He had never liked the party, though he supposed he was glad that his brothers celebrated their birthdays somehow. Mai smiled softly, padding over to him and taking the water. “I always do, babe.” She took a drink and set the glass aside. She straddled his thighs, sitting on his lap, brushing her fingers over his head. “They know.”

He nodded, hands circling her waist. “Did they tell you to stop?” Mai shook her head, blond curls dancing around her shoulders. “Good.” Rishid lifted his head, kissing the corner of her mouth. “Good.” Mai giggled, making Rishid grin. “Good.” He wrapped his hands around her back, laying her out on the sofa, fitting himself between her legs as he kissed her. “Good.”


	6. Chapter 6

Ryou bounded off the stage. The crowd had been fantastic tonight and he had tips tucked throughout his costume. He was busy thinking about how to sneak the money home and not paying attention when someone grabbed his hair roughly, pushing him back into the wall. “Hey!”

“When you gonna put out for me, baby?” The reek of alcohol hit Ryou’s nose and made him recoil from the drunk man in his face. His hands groped Ryou’s body, pressing in wherever the outfit showed bare skin. “Such a fucking tease. Someone needs to take the stick out of your ass and replace it with something better.” Ryou shoved at the man, wincing as his ankle rolled in his heel. “You need a good fuck.”

“Get off me!” The drunk cupped Ryou’s crotch, Ryou fighting harder, clawing at the guy’s arms. “Get the fuck off me!”

 

* * *

 

“He’s not going to do it. Ryou values himself too much.”

Marik arched a brow at Bakura as they straightened their clothes. “And the rest of my people don’t? I don’t?”

Bakura pulled on his tee. “You know that’s not how I meant it.” Marik hummed, tapping on his keyboard to bring his screens back up. “Come on. Just let Ryou dance and leave him alone about selling his virginity. He doesn’t want to do it.”

“Do you think I’m going to give you and your brother some sort of special treatment because I fuck you?”

“Marik-”

“Don’t.” Marik leaned over his desk. “Did you forget that this is a business, Thief?” Bakura frowned at the nickname. “I fuck you because I want to, but you work for me. Angel works for me. And if you’re not doing your jobs, then our business is done.”

Bakura looked up from pulling on his boots. “That really how you want to play this?” It stung. Marik reminding him that this was work and not… Bakura didn’t know what he wanted it to be, but a work thing wasn’t it. Marik wouldn’t look at him, focused on his screens. “Fine. Fine, then.” Marik bent closer to one of the screens, pulling up a camera view larger. “You know what, f-”

“Fuck,” Marik finished, grabbing his ear piece to put it in. “Leo, Eagle. We have a situation in the back hall.” He glanced up at Bakura. “Angel’s got a grabber.”

 

* * *

 

Nasir shoved Bandit into the entrance to the private rooms with a tense order to stay there, pushing his way across the floor. Fuck being subtle, he was going to kick ass. He could hear Ryou shouting as soon as he turned into the hall, but he couldn’t see him for the guy holding him down against the wall. Nasir’s vision went dark, stomping to the pair and yanking the idiot off Ryou. He heard something rip, part of Ryou’s costume, as the guy refused to let go. Nasir slammed him down on the floor, grinning as the guy’s head smacked against the floor. He was able to get in a few good punches, blood from the drunk’s nose coating his knuckles, before Rishid pulled him off. Nasir shoved at his brother’s chest, but Rishid simply pushed him back towards Ryou who grabbed his arm.

“I got this. You get him.” Rishid picked the guy up by his shirt, ignoring his whining as he dragged him to the door.

Bakura pressed his back against the wall to let them by and rushed to Ryou. “…the fuck happened?!” He looked from Nasir to Ryou, Ryou leaning on Nasir’s arm, standing on one foot. “What the hell happened?”

“Where the fuck were you?” Nasir hissed, still tense, Ryou’s need for help standing the only reason he didn’t launch into Bakura. “That’s your post! Why the fuck weren’t you there?”

“Fuck you, ask your brother!”

Nasir cocked his fist back. “Stop!” Ryou let go of Nasir, bracing his hand against the wall. His lip trembled, the rush of everything starting to hit him. “Stop it.” He pulled at his broken top. “I… I want to get a shower. Please…”

He squeaked when Nasir scooped him up, holding him to his chest. Nasir’s eyes narrowed at Bakura. “Do your fucking job.” Ryou mouthed an apology over Nasir’s shoulder as he carried him away.

Bakura fell back against the wall, staring at the blood on the floor. Ryou had almost gotten hurt because Bakura was so wrapped up in Marik. His little brother… He sank down to his ass. “Shit. Shit, I’m in over my head.”

 

* * *

 

Ryou sat on the toilet as Nasir turned on the shower. He’d expected Nasir to take him to the dressing room, but he’d climbed a back staircase instead, still carrying Ryou. The door had opened on a bedroom which Nasir had walked through without a word, setting Ryou where he currently sat in the ensuite bathroom. Nasir held his hand under the water, letting the blood wash away. “It’s ready.” He turned to Ryou, thinking he looked far too pretty to have his stage makeup smudged and his clothes ripped. “…I’ll be right in there if you need me.”

He made it to the door before Ryou spoke up. “I need you.” Nasir turned back to him as Ryou stood shakily. Nasir went right back to him, helping him stand. “My ankle, I turned it. I don’t want to fall. I need your help.” He tried to pull his ruined top off but couldn’t manage it and hold onto Nasir at the same time. Without a word, Nasir helped pull the material off, eyes narrowing at the bruise forming on Ryou’s arm. He moved to Ryou’s shorts, giving him a questioning look. Ryou nodded, fingers squeezing Nasir’s arm as he rolled them and his thong off his hips and down his legs, helping Ryou step free of them and his heels.

He tried not to react, but they were standing so close and Ryou’s body looked so damn good. Color spread over Ryou’s cheeks as Nasir’s eyes darkened, the color deepening as Nasir stripped. Ryou knew Nasir was jacked, they worked too closely for him not to notice it, but to see him bare, all corded muscles and smooth skin… Ryou swallowed, stopping himself from looking farther down. Nasir stepped into the shower, and Ryou did steal a look at his ass, taking Nasir’s hand to help him in under the water.

With a gentleness Ryou didn’t expect, Nasir washed his hair and his body, his touch light. Once, Nasir’s erection bumped Ryou’s hip, drawing Ryou’s attention. His eyes widened as he finally looked at his cock, immediately averting his gaze. Ryou felt like his heart was going to pound out of his chest, his own cock hardening. “…sorry,” Ryou murmured.

Nasir brushed his fingers against Ryou’s cheek. “Don’t ever apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Ryou lifted his eyes, leaning into Nasir’s touch, and Nasir wanted, more than he had wanted anything in a very long time, he wanted to kiss Ryou. But Marik’s voice, warning him not to fall for one of their employees, rang in his head. Ryou licked his lips, expecting the kiss, not expecting Nasir to reach behind him and turn the water off. He was wrapped in a towel before he could complain, dried off with the same gentle touch, and carried to a chair by the bed. “You have a change downstairs?” Ryou nodded, watching as Nasir scrubbed himself dry and dressed. “Stay here.”

 

* * *

 

Marik rarely went down into the club when they were open. He’d served his time, catering to the masses, but his worry about Ryou and Bakura was stronger than his loathing for going downstairs. He moved around the back of the floor, nodding at the barkeep, and heading to the other door. Bakura was right where Marik had last seen him from the monitor, sitting on the floor. “Thief?” Marik stepped wide around the mess. “Where’s Angel?”

Bakura groaned, rubbing at his face. “Leo… he took him to the showers.” Marik frowned. They hadn’t been on camera, but he didn’t point that out. “I fucked up.” Bakura let his head thud back against the wall, looking up at Marik. “I fucked up again.”

“This shit happens. Even here.” Marik squatted down. “You didn’t come back upstairs.” Back to me, Marik wanted to say.

Bakura looked away. “I wasn’t doing my job,” he said, echoing Nasir’s order. “Ryou got hurt because I was too busy… too busy not doing my job. I can’t do this anymore.” Bakura dragged his fingers through his hair. “I’m only here to keep Ryou safe and he’s only here because I fucked up. Neither of us should be here.”

If you weren’t here, I wouldn’t have you, Marik wanted to yell. They wouldn’t have known each other. He wouldn’t have Bakura in his life. But Bakura looked so wretched, he held his tongue. He pushed himself to his feet. “But you are here. Both of you. You work for me. So pull your shit together.” He started walking away. “Angel can have a couple days off. You too.”

 

* * *

 

Ryou stood in front of the dresser, wrapped in the towel, studying a framed picture when Nasir returned. He heard the soft thump of his clothes being dropped on the bed but didn’t turn around. “This is where you live, isn’t it?”

The bed creaked as Nasir sat down. “Cheaper than paying rent on my own place. Quiet too when I’m sleeping during the day.” He didn’t need to see the photo to know which one Ryou was looking at. “Our sister. She’s not part of all this.”

Ryou nodded, moving to the bed to take his clothes. He could feel Nasir watching him as he dressed. It was different than when the crowd watching him dance; this gaze was something he wanted to revel in, dressing slowly. He offered the towel to Nasir, part of him wishing Nasir would touch him and part of him not sure how he’d react if he did. “Hisato is probably worried about me.”

Nasir sighed. “Are you going to be okay? With your ankle?” Ryou nodded. “I’ll tell Namu to give you a few nights off.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Fuck that, you-”

“Leo, we need the money.”

Nasir pressed his lips together. “We’ll take care of you. You don’t need-” A knock at the door interrupted him. “Fuckin’ hell, what now?” He left Ryou standing at the edge of his bed, going over and opening the door. “Yeah?”

Marik stood there, a brow arched. “I half thought…” He shook his head, looking around his twin to Ryou. “You okay, Angel?”

“Yes, I will be.” He grabbed his heels, not wanting to put them back on. “Wouldn’t mind going home though.”

“Done.” Marik waved his hand. “I’ll call a car for you.”

“Mar-”

Marik gave Nasir a sharp look, unaffected when he growled at being interrupted again. “You can wait downstairs. I’ll have it come around back. Take your brother with you.”

“Thank you.” They moved aside for Ryou to step out. He stopped beside Nasir, looking like he wanted to say something, but he wouldn’t with Marik there. With another quiet thanks, he padded downstairs.

They watched him go, waiting until they heard the door shut. “Did you ruin everything and fuck him?” Nasir’s answer was to shove Marik out of the room and slam the door in his face.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should probably mention that I tend to headcanon Marik as having anger issues which the Rod amplified in the canon universe, creating his Yami. Here, there's no Millennium Items so Marik is still saddled with his issues and no split personality to foist them on.

By the time, Ryou and Bakura came back to work a few days later, Marik was on edge and down to one unbroken glass in his office. He turned down an appointment with Seto, something he hated to do, but he was too tense to be a good whore. He’d left Bakura alone, getting secondhand reports from Nasir who’d taken to texting Ryou. That a recent deal had gone south, a movement of drugs almost busted, making Marik lose money on the transaction, didn’t help his mood. He was stewing when Bakura finally came into his office at the end of his shift. He watched as Bakura picked up his one remaining glass, helping himself to scotch this time.

“So the rumor is that a certain CEO had to use his own hand to get off recently.” He leaned back against the bar, sipping the liquor. “Wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” Marik glared at him, black lacquered nails tapping against his desk. “Miss me?”

“I missed the sound of you choking on my cock. Not so much your inane drivel.” Bakura coughed, the scotch going down the wrong way. “There it is. I missed that.”

Bakura flipped him off. “So why’d you say no to Kaiba?”

“I don’t discuss business decisions with you.”

“Unless it’s something you need me to do.”

“Exactly.” Marik stood, taking the glass from Bakura and draining it. “No one else would dare come into my office, uninvited, drink my booze, all while talking shit to me.”

“And you were bored to death without me, weren’t you?” Bakura grinned, slipping his fingers down Marik’s chest, hooking into the waistband of his slacks. He had missed his boss, had missed their banter, and he’d taken extra care with his look tonight. He suspected Marik had done the same, the liner under his eyes extra sharp. He tugged Marik closer, tipping his head back. “Why be Namu for everyone else when you can be yourself for me?”

“You’re such a bothersome asshole.” Marik bracketed Bakura’s hips against the bar.

“An asshole you can’t get wait to get back in.” Bakura licked his lips, pleased by how quickly his charm was working.

“Shut up,” Marik said before shutting Bakura up for several minutes himself.

 

* * *

 

Nasir waited until almost everyone else had left before hopping up on the edge of the stage to wait for Ryou. It had become their thing, sitting on the stage at the end of the night, together, the two of them chatting while Ryou waited for Bakura to settle up with Marik. Bit by bit, Ryou's hate and anger faded, at least where Nasir was concerned. Nasir hadn't actively encouraged that, but he was enjoying Ryou's company more now that Ryou didn't hate him quite so much.

Careful fingers ruffled the spikes on his head, Ryou plopping down next to him. He smelled like cheap strawberry shampoo with his damp hair pulled up on top of his head. "I'd break most people's hands if they did that."

"Yet, you don't even growl when I do it." Ryou grinned, pulling his legs up to rest his chin on his knees. "I must be special." He covered a yawn with the back of his hand.

"Tired?" Ryou shrugged a shoulder in answer. "It's only two a.m." Nasir wanted to wrap his arm around Ryou and pull him in, to feel Ryou doze off, tucked safe and warm in his arms, but he didn't dare.

Ryou snorted. "You say that like it's not the middle of the night. The crowd was horrid tonight. Stingy bastards." He yawned again. "And I had an audition this morning, so I'm tired."

"An audition? For what?" Nasir frowned. Ryou couldn't go work at another club. Marik would never allow it and Nasir... Nasir would miss him. "You know you can't dance anywhere else now."

"You don't own me." Ryou lifted his head, looking down his nose at Nasir. "If I want to go to an audition, I can. It was for a day show at the kids' theater." Nasir's head fell back as he laughed. "What?" Ryou asked with a scowl.

He tried to recover, but still snorted. "You think they're going to hire a stripper? To work with kids?" Ryou bristled beside him, shoulders hunching up defensively. "You really want to dance, don't you? As a job?"

"What do you know." Ryou huffed, looking away from Nasir. "I'm good at it. Dancing makes me... it makes me feel alive. Free. Mum took me to lessons. It was our-" His voice choked. "Our thing. Before she died."

Nasir absorbed that as he watched Ryou dig his heels into his eyes. "...our mom died giving birth to us." Ryou stared at him in surprise. It was the closest any of them had gotten to talking about life before Domino. "We don't celebrate our birthdays because it was the day she died." Ryou opened his mouth but Nasir kept on. "Don't apologize. It wasn't anyone's fault and I don't want your empathy."

Ryou pressed his lips together before the words rushed out of him. "It was a car accident. Mum was running late to get me for dance practice and... Amane, our sister, was in the car too. I dance because Mum wanted me to." Voices at the door drew their attention, Marik and Bakura bickering on their way downstairs. "Finally." Ryou hopped off the stage, hesitating to look up at Nasir. "Wanna come dancing with me? I'm off next Thursday night."

"We're still open."

"You never get a night off?" Nasir shook his head. "Damn. That sucks." Ryou shouldered his bag, rushing across the floor to meet Bakura at the door.

"How many times do I have to tell you to stop drooling over the ass candy?!" Marik teased him, leaning back against the door awaiting his brother.

Nasir flipped him the bird, climbing off the stage and pushing past Marik. "Like that thief isn't stealing all your attention."

"Hey! He is not! Take that back!"

 

* * *

 

_I’ve got a recital Sunday. It’s before the club opens._ Ryou bounced his foot as he sent the text to Nasir. They’d spent more and more time together but always in the club. All his invitations to go out were declined and he half expected this one to be as well. But he kept trying. He almost dropped his phone when it buzzed.

_Send me the info. I’ll see what I can do._

 

* * *

 

Bakura studied the program, snarling in irritation when someone jostled him to sit next to him.

"You really do act like a wet alley cat."

Bakura blinked stupidly at Nasir as he slipped out of his jacket and folded it on his lap. "What the hell are you doing here?" He scanned the crowd. "This isn't exactly your kind of thing."

Nasir rolled his eyes, flicking open his program. "You don't know what my things are. Besides, Ryou invited me."

"Yeah, but you actually came." Nasir didn't acknowledge that, looking through the program for Ryou's name. "Well. Hunh."

They didn't bother trying to make small talk as they waited for the show to start. Bakura applauded politely after each dance. He'd been to enough of these things that the wait didn't bother him much anymore. Nasir seemed to be dozing and Bakura elbowed him in the ribs when Ryou came onstage.

He never looked into the audience before a performance, but Ryou had to know if Nasir had really come. Bakura was sitting where he always did and there, right next to him, a telltale head of spiky blonde hair. Ryou took a deep breath to steady himself, sinking to the floor with a tiny smile. He came. Nasir came. The music started and everything melted away as Ryou flowed through the dance.

Nasir's chest ached as he watched Ryou. He recognized the song a few bars into it and snorted. Of course, Ryou would dance like an angel to a song about fucking. Ryou fell back against the floor, back arching, kicking his legs over his head as he rolled back to his feet. Nasir tried not to think about those legs wrapped around his waist.

He'd chosen the song in hopes Nasir would show up and Ryou put his soul into it, writhing on the stage in a way he never bothered in the club. His hair whipped around his face as he spun, sinking into a split as the song ended. A beat and then he could hear Nasir cheering for him, an embarrassed Bakura trying to get him to shut up. Ryou grinned as he rolled to his feet, bowing to the audience and dashing offstage.

"Hey! Hey!" Bakura hissed at Nasir, tugging on his shirt. "Sit down. There are still other performances." Nasir scoffed, slipping free of Bakura's hold and walking out. "Damnit. Damnit!" Bakura waited through the last few dancers, seething, practically jumping from his seat as the lights came up.

Bakura found Nasir and Ryou laughing near the stage door. To his surprise, Ryou was holding a bouquet of white calla lilies. "Hey. Where'd you get those?"

"Bakura!" Ryou rushed to give his brother a hug. "Was it a good show? Did the song work?"

His eyes flicked to Nasir who leaned back against the wall. "Yeah, it was great. Not a damp panty in the house." He grinned as his brother swatted at him. "Did this asshole bring you flowers?"

Nasir flipped him off. "Yeah. Pretty, aren't they?" Ryou toyed with the edge of one petal, blushing some. "Let me get my bag and we can go." He hugged Bakura again and caught himself before he hugged Nasir as well. "Uh, sorry. I'll just..." With a pleased little smile, Ryou ran backstage.

"Flowers, hm?"

"Thought it might be frowned on if I made it rain for him."

"Gonna drive us to the club?"

"No, I'm giving Ryou a ride. You only get to come along because I don't want to hear Namu bitch that you're late."

"I knew you liked me."

"Fuck off, Thief."

 

* * *

 

Marik washed the jizz off his face, scowling at his reflection. He hated when Seto came on his face or his hair, but he was still trying to make amends for turning him down a couple weeks prior. The money was only barely worth it, but it still put him in a foul mood. He reapplied his kohl only because he’d asked Ryou to see him after they closed. One of their better clients had sent in an offer for Ryou. Marik had been stringing along several offers for Ryou’s virginity, but this one was the best so far. It would keep their patron happy and earn a pretty coin for them all. He was about to pour a second glass of wine when Ryou knocked at the door, Marik telling him to come in.

"Would you like a glass of wine?"

Ryou settled into one of the chairs and crossed his legs, giving Marik his most derisive glare. "I would like you to tell me why you wanted to see me."

"Where's your brother?"

"Buying weed from Dice. If you want him, go get him and leave me alone." Ryou had never warmed to Marik and still blamed him for the situation, for threatening to hurt him. Being summoned into Marik's office at the end of the night, when all Ryou wanted to do was go home and sleep, only annoyed him more.

Marik shrugged and finished pouring himself the wine. It was something Kaiba had left as a gift for him; Marik preferred hard liquor but the wine was smooth and bitter, not unlike Kaiba himself. "Does he still smoke?"

"Ask him," Ryou replied. Marik simply made himself comfortable at his desk, drinking his wine, clearly prepared to wait. So Ryou let him wait until he grew bored of the game. "Yeah, when whatever you've got him doing has him stressed."

"Hm, he doesn't show it." Marik filed that away for later.

Ryou sighed, wishing he could leave. "What do you want?"

Marik set down his wine glass, propping his elbows on the desk. "Five million yen." Ryou gave him a blank look. "For you. Five million yen for your virginity." Ryou's mouth opened and closed several times. "It's a good offer. For one night of work. Then our debt would be settled."

"And you'd keep all of it." Marik didn't deny it. "God. No. No, I've told you no." Ryou stood, considering the conversation over. "No."

"You're stupid to walk away from this. You might not get another."

"No!" Ryou's fist clenched at his sides, voice raised. "I'm not a whore!"

"Just for one night..."

"Fuck you! I actually respect myself. I would never fuck someone for money. That's so trashy. Fuck-"

Ryou squeaked as Marik launched across the desk, grabbing Ryou's tee and yanking him closer. "Say it again. Say that whores are trash." Ryou tried to shrink back from the fury in Marik's eyes, unable to due to the grip on his shirt. "You know what your fucking problem is, kid? You think that everyone had the same opportunities you did, or that you would have had if your mother hadn't died and your dad hadn't abandoned you." Marik shook him once. "I did what I had to to save my family. I would have loved to deal guns or drugs, but I didn't have the money then so I dealt what I did have: me. And we survived because I'm a whore. We're here because I'm a whore. So say I'm trash again. Because I killed the last guy who said that. SAY IT."

Tears swam in Ryou's eyes as he tried to get Marik to let go. "I'm sorry! I didn't... I didn't know!"

"I was whipped. They tied me down and whipped me. Because I took dick, they whipped me until I passed out." Ryou choked on a sob as Marik vented. "But I survived. My family survived. Because I'm a whore."

"I'm sorry. Namu, I... I'm-" They both turned their heads to the door, Nasir and Bakura standing there, all of them freezing for a moment.

"Shit!" Bakura recovered first, catching Ryou as Marik pushed him away. "What the fuck?!" He started checking Ryou to bruises or cuts. "What the fuck is your problem?! Kaiba raw you out too hard?!"

Nasir grabbed Marik around the waist to hold him back. "Go home," Nasir told them.

"No! He-"

Nasir maneuvered himself between Marik and the desk, his back to the other brothers. "Go home now." He kept a grip on Marik's shoulders, trying to calm him down.

Bakura was about to reply when Ryou tugged on his arm. "No, Hisato. He's right. We need to go."

When he heard the door click shut, Nasir pushed Marik down roughly into the chair. "What in the hell is wrong with you?! Ryou is our star. You can't attack him!"

Marik pointed at the door. "He said I was trash!"

"You? Specifically?"

"...no. Whores, generally."

Nasir ran a hand down his face, groaning, popping his hip against the desk. "You asked him to sell himself again, didn't you?"

"I am trying to run a business here! For us. For our family."

"No, Marik. For you." Nasir sighed. "This stopped being about all of us a long time ago. You wanted this life and Rishid and I want to make sure you stay alive. Damn, I need a smoke." Marik stared up at him. He'd had no idea that they felt that way and he wasn't sure if he was hurt or relieved. Nasir patted his shoulder. "Drop it with Ryou. He's not us. If he doesn't want to prostitute himself, it's fine. He's still earning money for us. They both are. So drop it. For me."

 

* * *

 

"He what? He was whipped?" Bakura's brows were drawn down, staring at the low glow of the blunt’s cherry. They'd gotten home and Bakura immediately rolled a joint while Ryou talked.

"That's what he said." Ryou took the blunt and drew the smoke into his lungs until they burned, blowing it out. Bakura watched him incredulously. "I think I earned it." He took another hit before passing it back. "I wouldn't have said anything if I'd known. Is he still... you know." Bakura nodded, the joint between his lips. "I didn't know."

"His back is all scarred up."

"How do you know that? ...oh."

Bakura sank back into the sofa. "It was before that. I saw him dancing. He thought the club was empty and he working the pole. When he came to turn everything off, I got a good look at it. Wouldn't tell me what happened." He offered the blunt back to Ryou who shook his head. "Shit, Ry. No wonder he's got anger issues."

"Understatement." Ryou got up to grab a bottle of water. "I thought you two were..."

"We are. But he leaves his shirt on. Which is damn shame if you ask me."

"Wasn't going to."

“Are you and Leo…?”

Ryou shook his head. “After he came to the recital, we’ve gotten coffee a few times. Breakfast once. But no. That’s why… Namu’s still trying to arrange a buyer for me.”

“Damnit.” Bakura licked his fingers, pinching the cherry out. “I can try to tell him to stop.” Ryou sat back down next to him and offered the water. “How much longer do we have?”

“Six months? Five if we can get by on less and give them more. Then we can be done with it.”

Bakura toyed with his lighter. “What if I didn’t want to be done with it?”

“Hisato…”

“Hear me out. This is the longest I’ve held down any kind of job. If they actually paid me… if I was bringing home money… I don’t hate working for Marik, is what I’m saying.”

“Marik?”

Bakura cussed under his breath, lowering his head. “Namu.”

Ryou got a funny smile on his face. “Leo won’t tell me his name. Figures you’d get Namu’s.” He nudged him. “As long as you’re safe. Working as the club’s security is one thing. This other stuff…”

“Is no worse than some of the stuff I was doing piecemeal before. Min Saboten simply has more resources.”

“Ah.” He sat quiet, deciding that he didn’t want to know, but regretting that he hadn’t been aware of Bakura’s struggles to take care of them before. “Think they’d hire you?”

“Guess we’ll find out in a few months.”


	8. Chapter 8

Ryou bent over, slipping his fingers up his leg to his hip, snapping up and whipping his hair over his back, winking at Nasir. The crowd yelled for more, money falling to the stage, but Ryou ignored them all. He knew Nasir was watching him, dropping to the floor and rolling in the money, the patrons throwing more money on him. Ryou writhed on the floor, bucking his hips up, stroking his hands up his body.

“Are we sure he’s still a virgin?” Marik’s voice crackled in Nasir’s earpiece.

Nasir lounged against the wall, the backrooms slow for the night. “Far as I know.”

“He is,” Bakura joined in. Marik had finally given him his own earpiece a month ago. It had taken them a week to adjust to hearing someone else in their conversations, but now Bakura’s quips were something they missed when he wasn’t there. “Though my lube went missing. And he got a package in the mail the other day.”

“I do not need to hear this,” Rishid interjected.

“Neither do I! Our walls are thin.”

Marik and Rishid groaned, but Nasir chuckled. Their little Angel might still be a virgin but something was definitely inspiring him. He just wasn’t going to offer his theories to the others. He saw Bakura direct someone his way, half watching Ryou spin around the pole, waiting for the guy to come over. Nasir knew what he was going to ask before he got there. He turned off his earpiece so Marik couldn’t hear the conversation.

“Your friend over there said you’re the one to see about arrangements.” Nasir looked him up and down. Clean, not too drunk, dressed well enough, and he’d been tipping the dancers so far. Normally, Nasir would be happy to take his money and let the guy get his rocks off. But he knew, he knew with the way he kept looking over his shoulder at Ryou. “How much for an hour with Angel?”

“He doesn’t do that.” Nasir didn’t move. He didn’t need to, already thinking through who was working and could be substituted – as though they had anyone else half as pretty as Ryou. He used to offer Val instead but she’d stopped doing more than lap dances recently. Nasir suspected that had something to do with the reason Rishid had gone to the jewelry store last week.

The guy frowned. “Not even a handjob?” Nasir shook his head. “Lap dance? Anything?”

“Angel’s not for sale.” Nasir took a certain happiness in saying that, though he knew Marik would yell at him for it. “Give me twenty and I can send someone else over for you.”

The guy nodded, still looking disappointed as he walked away. Nasir watched him go. “You and me both, buddy. You and me both.”

 

* * *

 

Bakura ground against Marik’s thigh. The club was shutting down and he’d snuck upstairs before Ryou would be looking for him. Marik squeezed his hips. Telling Bakura no hadn’t seemed to do much good. Marik tipped his head back, Bakura kissing his neck. “I’m, mmm, I’m going to throw you out,” Marik warned.

“C’mon.” Bakura traced his teeth up Marik’s neck, Marik’s thumbs pressing into his hips. “Not even if I say please?”

“You know I can’t. Seto’s coming.”

“Wouldn’t you rather I was cumming?”

Marik rolled his eyes, reluctantly pushing Bakura off his lap. “Yeah, I would.” He stole a kiss. “But work’s work and Seto could keep this place open just in what he pays me. I can’t be wrecked before he gets here.”

Bakura pouted, but stopped trying to get his way. “Does he love you?”

“No. Do you?” Bakura scrunched his nose, not looking away quite fast enough. Marik sighed, brushing Bakura’s bangs off his face. “Don’t fall in love with a whore. It doesn’t work out.”

“I haven’t,” Bakura protested. “Maybe I just want to steal you away all for myself. I am a thief after all.”

Marik smiled, the chime sounding to let him know Seto had arrived. “My thief.” Marik kissed him sweetly. “Tonight, okay? Come in early and I’ll give you the best blowjob of your life.”

He started to pull away, but Bakura grabbed him. “Can’t. You already did the first time you sucked me off.” The chime sounded again, both of them frowning at it. “Fucking prick.”

Marik slipped out of his hold, kissing his nose. “Go home, thief.”

 

* * *

 

Ryou tried to wait until he could hear Bakura snoring in the other room. He waited another ten minutes to make sure and then grabbed his phone, shooting a text to Nasir.

His phone buzzed almost immediately after. “Did you fucking give him an espresso?! I almost fell asleep.”

Ryou giggled, keeping his voice down. “Me too. But he’s out.” He wriggled out of his boxers, slipping them under his hips, and rolled over for the lube he’d taken from Bakura and the dildo he’d bought. “How pissed would Namu be if he knew what we were doing?”

Nasir chuckled. “Very.” He stretched out on his bed, naked after his shower. It had been Ryou’s idea, the early morning phone call. Their texts had steadily gotten flirtier and they’d sat closer and closer every time they went out until finally Ryou told him what he’d done.

_ “I bought a toy.” Ryou gestured with his hands. Nasir’s brows had practically gone to his hair with the thickness and length Ryou’d indicated. “Never had one before. Do you think it’s big enough?” _

_ “Big enough for what?” _

_ “To pretend it’s you.” _

The snap of the lube cap brought Nasir back into the moment, reminding him to have his own tube at hand. Ryou hissed at the chill. “Why is this stuff so cold?!” He smeared it over his skin, working one finger into himself. He’d done this before, fingered himself, though the toy was new. Newer, he supposed now. He’d broken it in a few times before suggesting Nasir call him while he used it.

“Better than hot and feeling like you’re on fire.” Nasir’s own touch was light, teasing himself, wanting to focus on Ryou. He had hesitated to agree to this, worried that Ryou would regret the offer, but Ryou insisted, between breathless kisses, and Nasir had finally said yes.

“Mm, I guess.” Ryou bent his knees, working a second finger in. He added more lube before adding a third. “Have you ever, uh, you know?”

“Bottomed?” Ryou hummed. “A couple times. When we started and needed money. Not something I’m fond of, but yeah, I’ve done it.” He could hear Ryou’s breathing catch on the other end of the line. “How many?”

“Thr-three…” Ryou sighed, pumping his fingers in and out. “I’m almost…” He spread his fingers wide, moaning softly.

That sound went straight to Nasir’s cock, going fully hard in his hand. “Damn.” The sound of his own lube squirting out was echoed on the phone as Ryou did the same, coating the dildo as Nasir slicked his cock. “Tell me what you’re doing.”

Ryou giggled. “Sorry. I… I’ve lubed it up and I’m… I’m pushing it against my ass. The tip… pushing it into me.” Nasir closed his fingers over his head, squeezing, imagining it was him pushing into Ryou. “It’s, mmm, it’s going in.” Nasir pushed into his hand, fingers slowly opening for him. Ryou’s breathing stuttered. “Oh god.”

“Slow,” Nasir told him, his voice thick with want. His cock throbbed hot and heavy in his hand. Perversely, he thought about how it would only take thirty minutes at this time of day to drive across town and bust down Ryou’s door, so he could fuck him senseless. Marik would kill him and he imagined Bakura wouldn’t be too pleased about the broken door if he did though.

“I did this before… to practice…” Ryou bit his lip, letting his knees fall open. The dildo sank further into his ass. “Halfway.” Nasir’s hand lowered, squeezing hard enough for precum to drip onto his abdomen. “I just need…” Ryou whimpered, trying to relax his body.

Nasir licked his lips. “You can do it. Open up for me.” Ryou whined, the dildo stretching him more. “That’s it. Take all of me. Let me fill you up.”

Ryou pulled the phone away from his ear to cover his mouth, panting as the plastic balls on the dildo hit his ass. “Oh fuuuuuuck…” Nasir slammed his fist to the base of his cock, squeezing harder so he didn’t cum right then. Ryou put the phone back to his ear. “It’s so,” he rasped, “you’re so big. In me so deep.” His muscles contracted around the toy. “Leo…”

He didn’t even think about it. “Nasir. My name’s Nasir.” Ryou sighed out his name, making Nasir curse. “Pull it out. Slowly. Until just the tip is in you.” Nasir mirrored his directions with his own hand. “And push it back in. Slowly again. Let me feel you.” Ryou’s thighs shook with the effort to keep the movements controlled. He ground against the base, his cock bobbing against his hip. “Again,” Nasir instructed.

Before long, sweat was making Ryou’s hair cling to his face, his cock flushed and full, patience snapping as the dildo slid into him easier each time. “Nasir… please. Oh god, please, I need to move. I need… I want…” He was too far gone to be embarrassed by the squelch sound as he thrust the toy into him faster. “Oh god!”

Nasir tapped the phone on speaker, dropping it on his chest to work his length with both hands, trying to guess from Ryou’s noises how fast he was going. “That’s it. Ride me. Keep going. Bounce for me.” Ryou whimpered and whined, writhing on the toy. His cock ached and he angled the dildo to hit his prostate. “Gonna cum for me, Ryou?”

“Yes! Oh god, yes!” Ryou let the phone fall to the pillow next to him, grabbing his cock, jacking himself. “Nasir, oh god, Nasir. It’s so good. Feels so good. I… I… AH!” Ryou arched off the bed, shoving the toy into himself as he shot cum all the way up to his chest. Nasir growled, bucking into his hands, chasing his own high, Ryou’s blissed out voice coming from his phone. “Fill me up. I want you to be my first.”

Nasir bit his lip hard enough to break the skin, jizz spurting over his hands, shaking so much he thought he was going to pass out. “Fuck…”

“Yeah.” They lay there as the world came back to them, until Ryou could hardly hold his eyes open. “I should clean up.” Nasir hummed and Ryou suspected he was already half asleep. “Hey Nasir?”

“Hm?”

“I meant that. I want you to be my first.”

“…I know.”

They hung up after saying good night. Nasir laid in bed, knowing he needed to sleep, but Ryou’s wish kept replaying in his head. If Marik would have been pissed about the phone sex, he was going to be livid over what Nasir was thinking.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more short chapter after this!

Nasir threw open Marik's office door, letting it bang against the wall. Marik didn't flinch as he looked up from his computer screen. The twins eyed each other as Nasir stomped across the room. Marik leaned back in his chair, Nasir stopping in front of the table instead of coming around next to Marik. With a thud, Nasir dropped several stacks of banknotes onto the table. Marik's brows arched in surprise, reaching out to take the money and count it.

"For Ryou," Nasir said. "That's your asking price for him, plus ten percent."

Marik set the money aside. "Are you the buyer or the delivery boy?"

Nasir growled, bracing his fists on the desk to lean forward, repeating the words he’d been telling customers for weeks. "Ryou isn't for sale. This is so you'll stop putting him through so much shit. Stop trying to get him to sell himself."

"But you seem to have bought him."

"Marik, I swear to Ra, you deserve a good beat down so don't tempt me." Nasir's jaw clenched. He didn't want to fight his twin but if he didn't drop it, Nasir would happily make his point with his fists. "Ryou isn't for sale," he repeated.

After a moment, Marik nodded once sharply. "You realize you paid off his debt doing this. Ryou can leave whenever he wants now."

"So can Bakura." Marik was the first to look away, crossing his arms over his chest, a movement his brother mirrored. "We gotta stop this. We don't own people. They don't owe us. We can't force people to stay with us."

Marik's nose twitched. "I'm not ready for him to go."

Nasir sighed, falling back into a chair. "Then ask him to stay. Offer him a salary. Ask him to be your partner. He's proven himself enough."

"After everything we've put them through, they won't stay."

"They might. Bakura might, at least."

"I can't."

"Why not?" Nasir prodded, not wanting Marik to shut down on him.

"I can't!"

"You're Marik fucking Ishtar. You saved our family after Father was killed. You made a life for us and when that got bad, you moved all of us here and started again. You can do any fucking thing you want."

Marik finally looked back at Nasir. "And what if I want him? Whores don't get the luxury of falling in love."

His brother laughed. "You're the most luxurious whore I've ever seen. If you're saying it, it's already happened." Nasir shook his head. "Ask him to be your partner." He stood. "I'm going to tell Ryou his debt's paid. Want me to send Bakura up?" Marik didn't answer him. Nasir walked around the desk to him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. "Be honest with him and then ask him to be your partner. You get to be happy too, Marik."

 

* * *

 

Ryou sat in the dressing room, lacing up his boots. His closet at home was filled with more dance clothes than street wear now and that was fine with him. In a few more months, they’d be done and he could either keep the outfits or sell them for more money. He frowned as he smoothed a hand over the leather. For as angry as the thought of having to work at Min Saboten made him, he would miss the place. He’d miss Val and Dice and… He’d really miss Nasir. 

If he didn't owe Min Saboten, if Namu hadn't threatened him and Hisato, would he be working there? If they'd offered him a position as a dancer and paid him, would he have said yes? Knowing what he did now, he had to admit he probably would have. He pressed powder over his face, neck, and shoulders. Hisato wanted to stay. Would he, if he could?

"You look like your cat died, sugar." Val sat next to him, fluffing her hair. "What's up?"

"Val, do you like working here? I mean... you've been here awhile." Ryou turned on his seat to face her. "Would you recommend staying here? Or... or should I get out?"

Val's brows drew together, her fingers stilling. "You're a star. Are thinking about walking away from that?"

"I don't care about that," Ryou pushed. "I meant, well, I meant long-term. Should I stay?"

"Ah." Val stole Ryou's hairbrush, running it through her hair in long strokes. "I've never regretted working here. Especially not now. I would miss it. I'd miss the people. And I hope I would be missed." She gave him a sly look. "Don't you think someone would miss you?"

Ryou felt his cheeks flood with heat as he held out his hand for the brush. "That's not necessarily a good reason to stay somewhere." Their heads turned to the door to find Leo leaning against the frame. Ryou swiftly went back to styling his hair, pulling it into a high ponytail.

Val laughed and patted his knee. "No, but it could be enough." She leaned closer. "Especially if you'd miss him too."

 

* * *

 

Bakura pushed open Marik's office door with his hip. "Alright, we got cognac or vodka. What's your poison tonight?" He held up the bottles he'd liberated from the club bar in offering. Marik didn't respond, simply watching him from behind his desk, Nasir's words weighing heavy on his mind. Bakura frowned. "What? Don't tell me Seto is on his way."

"And if he was?"

With a sigh, Bakura put the bottles down on Marik's private bar and leaned back against it. "It would suck. When Leo said you wanted me up here, I thought..." He dragged his fingers through his hair. "It would suck."

Marik didn't look away, sitting perfectly still. "He's not coming. But if he was, you understand I would keep the appointment. Right? His money is too good to give up." Bakura scrunched his nose, turning to stare at the bottles before finally deciding on the vodka. "I'm a whore, Bakura. I need you to be okay with that."

"Why?" He took a large drink, letting the liquor burn down his throat. "What does it matter what I think about it?"

"...your debt's paid."

Bakura choked on the vodka, bracing himself on the bar as he coughed, his eyes watering. His brain went into overdrive. By his calculations, they still had several months to pay off the debt. Bakura spun around with a sick look. "Tell me you didn't sell Ryou."

Marik shook his head. "Not quite. The debt was paid off by someone else, but not in exchange for your brother's virginity." Bakura slumped in a chair in relief. "Happy? Your brother's not a whore, not like me." Marik didn't bother to hide the bitter note that snuck into his voice.

"What's with you?" Bakura narrowed his eyes. "If we don't owe you anything anymore, why are you so salty about it? Why do you care what I think about you prostituting yourself to Kaiba?"

Marik pushed himself to his feet, giving Bakura his back as he went to the bar to pour himself a drink. As much as he loved baiting Bakura into an argument, he wasn't looking for one now. Something felt twisted in his chest, a vulnerability he hadn't felt since Nasir and Rishid had bandaged his mutilated back. It made him, as Bakura said, salty which wasn't how he wanted the conversation to go. Marik took a drink and sighed, not facing Bakura. "Because I want you to stay. Leo says I should ask you to be my partner, give you a salary and ask you to work with me, but..."

"But what?"

"I'm not going to stop sleeping with Seto. Even if this, us, whatever it is, was something more, something that you stayed for... I'm still a whore." Marik took his drink and stood before Bakura, resting his hips against the edge of his desk.

He had to fight to give the grin off his face. Marik said "us", them, like they were more than a casual fuck, if fucking your boss could be casual. He'd already made up his mind to ask for a job, but it seemed he didn't even need to ask. Bakura spread his legs, tapping his foot against Marik's. "Are you asking me to be your partner?"

Marik set his drink down and crossed his arms. "Provided you don't object to- Hey!" Bakura surged to his feet, pressing his body against Marik's. Marik held his hands in front of him to keep Bakura from bending him back over his desk.

"Are. You. Asking me. To be your partner?" Bakura punctuated his words with soft kisses to Marik's neck, squeezing his hips. "Yes or no?"

"Shouldn't I ask you that?" Marik tipped his head back, laughing breathlessly, fingers curling into Bakura's shirt. "Yes, I'm asking you to be my partner. What do you say?"

 

* * *

 

Ryou found Nasir waiting at the edge of the stage for him, like always. Ryou broke into a huge grin and realized Val was right - he'd miss this, he'd miss Nasir. When the debt was paid, he'd figure something out. Maybe Namu would let him stay. He bounded over to Nasir, kissing his cheek as he sat next to him. "Do you want to go get coffee? Bakura went upstairs, so I have time."

Ryou was beautiful, like starlight after a storm. Nasir brushed Ryou's hair away from his cheek, looking at him until a soft flush of color filled Ryou's face. "What? Do I still have glitter on me?" Ryou asked. Nasir pulled his hand back to take Ryou's hand, stroking his knuckles. He was certain his heart was pounding loud enough for Ryou to hear it, but he wasn't going to be a coward.

"I paid your debt. You're free. You don't have to stay here anymore."

A flurry of emotions showed in Ryou's eyes. Surprise, of course. Happiness. Confusion. Worry. "You paid it? Did... Did Namu make you pay it? Because we...?"

"No." Nasir threaded their fingers together, grateful that Ryou hadn't pulled away. "I wanted to. It wasn't sitting right with me that you were only here because Marik made you." He lifted Ryou's fingers to his lips, kissing the tips. "And I'm sorry for my part in that."

Ryou's voice was quiet, almost afraid to ask. "...did you buy my virginity?"

Nasir shook his head, cradling Ryou's hand with both hands now. "I've been telling people for weeks that you aren't for sale. I told Marik you aren't for sale." He longed to pull Ryou into his arms, to hold him as though that would keep Ryou with him, but that would defeat the purpose of paying Ryou's debt at all. For all he wanted Ryou to stay with him, he wanted it to be Ryou's choice even more. "No one owns you. You," he laughed drily, "you don't ever have to dance on this stage again."

Ryou looked over his shoulder at the empty stage. "What if I wanted to? Nasir, what if I wanted to stay?"

His chest hurt, hope burning inside him. "Then we ask Marik to hire you."

"We?" The smile Ryou gave him was small but sincere. And Nasir did then pull him into his arms, letting Ryou straddle his hips.

"Yeah, we. Together." He tipped his head back, looking up at his angel. "If that's what you want."

"I want," Ryou whispered, kissing Nasir sweetly, "you to take me to bed."

 

* * *

 

"I say I should have stolen the champagne." Bakura dragged his lips up Marik's throat, stealing kisses from his lips, each lasting longer than the one before it.

Marik hummed into the kisses, allowing his thief his treasures, before pushing him back some. "Why can't you ever give a straight answer to a question?" He curled his hand into Bakura's hair, holding his head still. "Stay. With me. At Min Saboten."

"And be your partner?" Bakura grinned toothily, lids heavy at the tug to his hair. His hands pulled Marik's shirt free of his slacks, slipping under the fabric. "Yeah. Yes." He dragged his blunt nails down Marik's stomach. "Do I need to make a blood pact with you now?"

His muscles twitched at the scrapping. "Not blood." Marik maneuvered Bakura's head closer, pressing their mouths together, pushing his tongue past the seam of his lips. Bakura melted against him with a soft noise, circling his lips around Marik's tongue and sucking. Bakura’s hands slid around Marik’s waist, his thumbs rubbing up and down his ribcage. His own heart felt like it was going to stampede out of his chest. Marik wanted him. He wanted Bakura to stay. He wouldn’t have to beg for a job or walk away with a broken heart and a bruised ego – Marik wanted him. He moaned around Marik’s tongue, pressing their bodies together.

Marik’s fingers clenched in Bakura’s hair while his other hand slipped to cup his ass, lifting and squeezing. Bakura was his. His thief. His partner. He could have a partner without hiding anything, without giving anything up. He could have… Marik sighed through his nose, hands tightening on Bakura possessively. He could have love, if they wanted.

Bakura’s needy whimper when Marik pulled away made Marik grin. “Let’s take this somewhere else. Partner.”

 

* * *

 

Ryou arched off Nasir’s bed, arms wrapped around his shoulders, as Nasir slipped Ryou’s sweatpants down his legs. Nasir’s mouth pressed kisses along Ryou’s collarbone, across his chest, laving at one nipple and then the other, before continuing downward, wet kisses trailing over his stomach. Nasir’s hands curled around Ryou’s hips, holding him steady. He loved Ryou’s reactions, loved how he squirmed under him, loved the taste of his skin, and Nasir nuzzled into the v of Ryou’s hips. “Ryou…”

The soft brush of his hot breath over his sensitive skin left Ryou giggling, grabbing at Nasir’s blonde spikes. His legs scissorred, moving until he could spread them around Nasir’s chest. “Yes?” Nasir propped his chin on Ryou’s hip. Ryou smiled down his body at him, petting his hair.

“Are you sure you want to do this? We don’t have to.”

Ryou tugged on Nasir’s hair until he crawled back up his body, looking down at him. Ryou cupped his face, thumbing his cheekbones. “Yes. I really do want you to be my first.” He lifted his head to kiss Nasir tenderly. Nasir groaned as he returned the kiss, letting Ryou nibble on his lower lip. He rolled his hips down against Ryou, rewarded with a softer groan from Ryou.

“Fuck…” Nasir pushed himself off the bed, dark eyes on Ryou stretched out pale and soft over his bed. Well, mostly soft. Nasir opened his belt, working his pants open and letting them drop to his feet. He stepped out of them as he walked to his nightstand, retrieving a bottle of lubrication and a box of condoms.

“Really?” Ryou wrinkled his nose. “I’m pretty sure I don’t have anything.”

Nasir shook his head. “Not taking any chances with hurting you.” He held up the box as he pulled out a condom foil. “Plus these are lubed too. It’ll make it easier for you.” He hesitated with the foil in his hand. “Ah, you aren’t allergic to latex, yeah?” Ryou shook his head, hair scattering against the bedding. Nasir dropped the condom and the lube within reach, balancing one knee on the bed to lean down over Ryou. The way Ryou smiled at him made his heart ache in its sweetness. “You’re sure?”

“Yes. God, yes.” Ryou spread his legs wider. “Make love to me, Nasir.”

 

* * *

 

Bakura stopped in the doorway, his eyes adjusting to the dim light. The room Marik had lead him to wasn’t at all what he was expecting. The furniture was simple, dark wood against a dark purple carpet, black heavy curtains covering the windows, blocking the early morning light. Lavender bedding almost seemed too sweet for the bed of a crime lord. It was… homey. Subdued. Bakura scowled. “What’s this?”

Marik sat on the bed, his bed, brushing his hand over the bedding. “My room. You didn’t think I slept in the same room I took clients in, did you?”

“I… I didn’t think about it, I guess.” Bakura watched Marik kick off his shoes and open the buttons on his shirt. “Why are you showing me this now?”

“Because this is me, Bakura.” Marik slipped his shirt off his shoulders and reached to remove his socks. “Or, I should say, this is me too. The other room, my office, the club, that’s all me. But this is me as well.” Bakura stepped into the room properly, closing the door behind him, walking around slowly. “I haven’t let anyone in here in a long time. Not even Nasir. This is my private space. This is my retreat. I need this as much as I need the rest of the club.”

Bakura stopped to examine a framed photo on Marik’s nightstand, the three Ishtar brothers and their sister smiling at the camera. “So why let me in?”

Marik stood with a sigh, putting his clothes in the hamper. “Isn’t it obvious? I want you to be my partner. Not just with the club, but…” He paused. Bakura stared at him from across the room, Marik’s bare back exposed to him, the long jagged scars white against his darker skin. “I never felt like I deserved to have someone in my life. Never felt like anyone could handle what my life had become. And then you…”

His words faded away. His thief had silently stepped over to him, brushing Marik’s hair away from his shoulders, tenderly kissing the back of his neck, kissing the edge of the highest scar. “And then I came into your life,” Bakura murmured, fingers lightly following the paths of broken skin. “And I’m not running. And I’m not tying you down.” Marik could feel him grin against his shoulder blade. “Unless you’re into that.” Marik turned in Bakura’s arms, settling into his hold. “I accept you. All of you. Is that what you needed to hear?”

“Yeah,” Marik said with a soft smile. “Yeah, I think it was.”

 

* * *

 

Ryou writhed on Nasir’s fingers. His fingers were rougher, thicker than Ryou’s own, and the pleasure of it made him tremble. Nasir spread his fingers wide and then curled them up, dragging them against Ryou’s prostate. Ryou clutched at his arms, nails digging into his skin. He needed the anchor, his cock flushed dark pink and hard as it stretched up towards his belly. He whined as Nasir repeated the motion. “Nasir… Nasir, I… I’m ready.” His nails scratched at Nasir’s arms. “Please!”

Nasir pulling his fingers out left Ryou panting. Nasir chuckled, earning himself a tap with Ryou’s foot. “Can’t help it.” He opened the condom packet and tossed the foil aside. “You’re good for my ego.” He held the tip of the condom and rolled it down his length. Ryou would have stuck out his tongue, but his mouth went dry as he watched Nasir handling his cock. Nasir shifted to stretch out next to Ryou, pouring more of the silicone-based lube over the condom. “Come here,” Nasir purred.

He didn’t need to be told twice, Ryou pushing himself up and straddling Nasir’s hips. He kept his knees wide, hovering over Nasir’s cock. Nasir reached between them, angling himself upwards, nudging against Ryou’s hole. “Slow. There’s no rush,” he reminded Ryou.

With a small huff, Ryou let his hips sink lower, biting his lip as Nasir’s cockhead pressed into him, waiting for his body to open for him. Ryou closed his eyes, blowing a breath out past his lips, focusing on relaxing his muscles. The initial stretch didn’t feel any worse than Nasir’s fingers, than Ryou’s dildo, and his breathing stuttered in relief as Nasir entered him. Nasir massaged Ryou’s thighs, appreciating the sight even though his body was screaming to surge up, to take Ryou hard. Ryou sank a little more down his length, eyes opening wide at the feeling of Nasir inside him. “You… you’re bigger than my toy.” He braced his hands on Nasir’s stomach, lowering his hips another inch. “…damn.”

Nasir hummed. “Like I said. Good for my ego.” Ryou laughed, high and breathless, as he took more of Nasir’s length into himself. “Almost there.” Ryou lifted up, settling a little lower when he eased back down. “That’s it.” Nasir smoothed his hands up to Ryou’s hips, the warmth of his touch soothing Ryou’s muscles. “You’re gonna take all of me, aren’t you. Gonna open up for me so sweetly.”

Ryou whined, thighs shaking as he lowered himself almost to the base of Nasir’s cock. “I don’t... I don’t know if…” He swallowed, stretched around Nasir’s length. He wriggled his hips. “I want… Help me.” Nasir grabbed the bottle of lube and angled his hips down into the bed, pulling out of Ryou. “No! No, wait! That isn’t-”

“Ssh.” Nasir put a finger against Ryou’s lips. “I’m only adding more lube. I’m helping.” It killed him, the teary frustration in Ryou’s eyes, and he squeezed out so much lube that it dripped down his balls. He scooped the excess up, smearing it over Ryou’s skin. Ryou hissed at the chill and then moaned as Nasir insert more around his rim. “Now try.”

Nasir held his cock steady, Ryou sighing in relief as his cockhead slipped into him easily. He sank steadily down his length and, as he reached the point where he’d had to stop a moment ago, Nasir thrust up, filling Ryou completely. Ryou gasped, nails clawing Nasir’s stomach, his cock throbbing and dripping as he shook. “Breathe.” Nasir stroked Ryou’s body. “Breathe.”

“I, I am,” Ryou panted. “I need… What I need to do…” He pressed his lips together, lifting his hips and carefully lowering them again. “I need to move.” He circled his hips. Up. Down. Up. Down. Nasir watched him, enchanted, his hands roaming over Ryou’s skin as he moved. He dragged his nails up Ryou’s side, making him shiver and clench around his cock, Nasir’s jaw snapping shut as his cock twitched. Ryou was tight and each extra squeeze pushed Nasir closer to the edge. Condom or no, Nasir knew he had to control himself so he didn’t cum before Ryou.

Each roll of his hips went easier until he was smoothly pistoning up and down Nasir’s cock. “Oh, god,” Ryou whined. His hair bounced around his shoulders, cock bobbing against Nasir’s stomach, dropping harder and grinding his hips. “Is… is it always this good?”

Nasir curled his hand around Ryou’s cock, giving him some friction. Sweat glistened over his chest and arms. “Yeah,” he said, voice rough. “Yeah, I think, with you, it will be.”

Ryou laughed, muscles clenching around Nasir as he did, and let his head fall back, riding him harder, bucking into his fist when he dropped to his base. Pleasure burned through him, coiling low in his hips. He leaned back, taking Nasir’s wrist to keep his grip on Ryou’s cock, little ah’s slipping past his lips with the new angle. Nasir pumped Ryou’s cock, rocking up into him on each drop. It overwhelmed Ryou, thrusting into Nasir’s hand as his ass constricted around his cock. “Na-Nasir… Oh god, oh my god… Nasir! NASIR!” His whole body shook, tense as a bowstring as he came over Nasir’s abdomen, creamy white splattered over his skin.

With Ryou’s ass locked around him, Nasir’s control broke, thrusting up as he came with a roar. Ryou shuddered at the sensation of Nasir’s cock pulsing deep inside him. He placed his palm over Nasir’s heart, feeling it pound as he caught his breath. “That was… that was much better than a dildo.” Nasir snorted, lips twitching before giving way into laughter, curling his arms around Ryou and pulling him into his chest. Ryou squirmed against the sticky mess but the vibration of Nasir’s laughter felt too good and he settled into his hold. “I’m going to be sore tomorrow, aren’t I?”

“Yeah,” Nasir answered, smoothing Ryou’s hair off his brow. “But I’ll take care of you. I’m always going to take care of you. My angel.”

“Yours. Only yours,” Ryou whispered, kissing Nasir.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter! Thank you if you've been reading along. Thank you if you're finding this later and reading it now. I hope you enjoyed it!

Bakura sat behind Marik’s desk, holding the blunt to his lips and inhaling before passing it to Nasir. Marik walked in just as Bakura was exhaling. He waved his hand in front of his face with a disgusted look. “I’ve told you not to do that in here. And get the fuck out of my chair.”

“That’s funny. Last night you fucked me into this very chair.” Bakura grinned, unrepentant, though he did put out the blunt’s cherry.

Nasir groaned. “I don’t need to hear this.” Marik held his door open and gestured that Nasir was free to go. “Yeah, yeah.” He patted Bakura’s shoulder. “Good luck.”

“I don’t need luck!” Nasir laughed at him. “Asshole,” Bakura muttered.

Nasir bumped into Marik’s shoulder. “Think you found a replacement for Val tonight? Some good looking amateurs up there.”

Marik nodded. “Rishid’s going over contracts with a couple of them. We should get at least one or two. Can’t believe he’s going to be a dad.”

“And we’re going to be uncles.” Nasir gave Marik a quick hug, an awful habit he picked up from Ryou, and sauntered out.

Marik let his door close, looking at it thoughtfully. “I didn’t realize you were nervous. Stand up. Let me see what you’re wearing.” He leaned back against the door as Bakura stood. The leather pants had a shiny, wet look, clinging to his hips and ass, the outline of his cock just visible. The blood red shirt made his skin look even paler and Marik moved closer, undoing a few more buttons.

“Hey now, not supposed to give it away for free, am I?” Bakura held Marik’s hips, slipping his hands around to feel his ass, the leather shorts matching Bakura’s pants. Bakura’s fingers teased the curve of his ass that the shorts revealed. His fishnet shirt could barely be called a shirt, stretching over his chest and arms but leaving his shoulders and abs bare. “Mm, do I have time to get a bj?”

Marik swatted his chest, circling his hips to get free, ass swaying enticingly as he walked away. “No.” He poured himself a glass of bourbon, giving Bakura the first sip. “Don’t punk out on me.”

Bakura kissed Marik, chasing the liquor on his lips. The chime went off, signaling Kaiba’s arrival. “Make the rich boy happy. Follow your lead. And make him cum so hard he passes out.” Bakura grinned, threading his fingers with Marik’s as he pulled him to the door. “I promise one hundred percent customer satisfaction.”

Marik rolled his eyes, pushing Bakura through the door. “I don’t know why I thought this was a good idea.”

 

* * *

 

Nasir collapsed onto Ryou’s chest, breathing hard, completely drained. “Fuck… I knew you’d be good, but… fuck.” Ryou laughed and stroked Nasir’s hair, his muscles still fluttering around his cock. Nasir could feel Ryou’s heart beating against his cheek, turning his head to kiss his breastbone. “I don’t want you to leave.”

Ryou smiled, cupping Nasir’s face. “I don’t have to go yet. We can get cleaned up and cuddle for awhile.”

Rolling them to their sides, keeping Ryou’s hips pressed against him, Nasir shook his head. “No. Not just today. Every day. I hate when you go back to your apartment.”

“I know.” Ryou curled against Nasir’s chest. “I’d much rather sleep in your arms. But I live there.”

“…what if you didn’t?” Nasir wrapped his arms around Ryou. “What if you lived here?”

Ryou lifted his head, his eyes searching Nasir’s. “Are you asking me to move in?” Nasir nodded once. “Nasir… I’d love to, but Hisato…”

Nasir huffed. “Bakura practically lives here now. He stays with Marik more days than he goes home anymore.”

“That’s true.”

Nasir kissed Ryou’s forehead. “Please. Move in with me. Stay here in my arms. Please, Ryou. I…” Ryou waited, his heart skipping, Nasir pressing their foreheads together. “I want to share my life with you. I want to wake up next to you and fall asleep in your arms. Ryou… I love you.”

Ryou melted into Nasir’s arms. “Yes. Yes.” He pushed Nasir’s shoulder, making him roll over, Ryou straddling him, his hair curtained around their faces. “I love you. I was scared it was because you were my first, but… No, I love you. I really love you. Yes, yes, I’ll move in.” Ryou squeaked as Nasir rolled them around on the bed, both of them dissolving into happy laughter.

Nasir kissed Ryou as they settled, rubbing their noses together. “I love you.”

Ryou smiled. “I love you too.”


End file.
